


across the (alternate) universe

by cuddlefighter (bibbasaur)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 63
Words: 16,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibbasaur/pseuds/cuddlefighter
Summary: Self-indulgent edits now being archived at ao3 as a formal protest against Tumblr's image scaling. Hi-res versions! \o/ (Formerly 'The Great Tumblr Edit Dump' but offline friend is like, 'please get a better title' so here it is)Each chapter has a different AU, with an accompanying drabble-ish text. Buyer beware: Author is Not An Actual WriterTM.NOTE: All AUs are 1988 (and maybe some 1712 in the future) but you might see one 1491 (Bennguin) AU in Chapter 55. I have not included them in the ships tag as this fic is primarily Hawks-focused (and to also not clutter their tag with my work that is 99% Hawks-related)





	1. 1712 Space Marine AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Alex and Dylan are former bonded space marine ex-boyfriends who’re now reunited for mankind’s salvation. Tropes, tropes and tropes galore. For @kanerboo, @secretkanerblog and @princesspeeksy

* * *

Alex was nervous. The League’s High Command was patched in, their faces daunting in the blue-gray screens. He didn’t really know why he was called in with the Captain and Kaner. He’s just a grunt—a specialized grunt, sure—but like everyone else, he just shoots and kills the bad guys so that he could live for another day.

“Captain, we’ve been advising you, repeatedly, to pull your men out of C60601-6,”

“And your counsel is noted, Commander,” the Captain responded with an edge to his tone, clearly having rehashed this conversation repeatedly with High Command and getting fucking tired of it. “But we have enough offensive firepower to hold C60601-6—”

“—but not enough defensive capabilities. For chrissakes’ Toews, get your head out of your ass. You are _vastly_ outnumbered and at a tactical disadvantage. You have no way of keeping those xenosoldiers out. Get out of there before we lose more men.”

Maybe it was the bond or the fatigue of pulling so many shifts with the Captain, but Kaner—polite, quiet, easy-going Kaner—finally snapped. “That is not on _us_ , you fucking trumped-up asshole. You sent us here with _nothing_. No preparations, no direction, no backup. Our rations were limited, our men green recruits, our ammunition stocks dwindling by the day. Jonny and I are doing our best to keep everyone alive but what can you expect when we’re down to using knives against 600-pound xenosoldiers? Do not for a minute even think you can pin the blame on Jonny when you sent us here to _die_.”

Alex could practically see the High Command collectively taking a sharp breath. It was true. Their company was ill-equipped to fight.

“You are a trained soldier, Lieutenant Kane. Giving you a gun and a knife is preparation enough,” one of the generals said frostily. “Be glad that you’re a well-decorated and invaluable member of the Corps and we, in gratitude to your years of excellent service, will choose to let this misdemeanor slide. If we weren’t at war and your skills so highly in demand, you’d be facing the business end of a firing squad.”

Kaner fumed, silent. The Captain was still standing in attention, ramrod-straight, but he knew he was furiously communicating with Kaner to back down. For all of the Captain’s derision against the League, he was still a stickler for the chain of command. After a beat, Kaner nodded to the Captain, a small tilt of the head that was almost imperceptible to everyone except for Alex’s sharp sniper eyes.

The general, thinking that he’d won, sat back smugly. Major General Bowman spoke up, using the lull in the conversation to divert the topic that wouldn’t get the Captain or his lieutenant court-martialed.

“Sargent DeBrincat,” Bowman called.

“Sir,” Alex stepped forward and saluted smartly.

“You have 28 confirmed xenosoldier kills, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. And rising.” Alex said proudly, looking at Kaner. Kaner nodded approvingly.

“Individual missions?”

“Yes, sir. All of them.”

“And who’s working with you as your spotter?”

Alex frowned. He could hold his own just fine. He didn’t have a spotter, nor did he need to. He hadn’t had one, not since—

Bowman didn’t wait for him to respond. “The USS Arizona has been in orbit since 0700 hours. They’ve sent down two of their men.”

Alex knew. He’d been praying that one of them wasn’t _him_. He’d taken extra shifts to make sure that he’d be out of sight and doubled up on the bond suppressants, to quash the tell-tale thrum of the connection.

“Your file says you’re bond-positive, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that you were in simpatico with one of the men in Fort Erie during your training, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir but—” Alex felt nauseous.

“This man, Lieutenant Strome, is one of the two that have been sent down by the USS Arizona. Your file says he was the one you were in simpatico with. It also shows that during the last year of your training, you suddenly filed for bond termination and was granted permission by the Corps to get bond suppressants.”

Alex nodded, mind racing to those last few days in Fort Erie. Dylan was already being touted for a future as an officer in the Corps. Alex didn’t know if the Corps would even select him, his mind already resigned to a dreary future of piloting supply ships or mechanical work in the spaceyards. Letting Dylan go so he wouldn’t be saddled with a nobody while he rose up in the Corps’ ranks was painful but Alex knew he was doing the right thing.

“You might have personal reasons for breaking your bond, but as you know, we are at war. USS Arizona has reported that Lieutenant Strome has been having problems with other bond-positives. A pity, since he was one of the most promising in his officer training class. He’ll be assigned to you as your spotter and you will rekindle that bond,” Bowman commanded, matter-of-factly. “Is that understood?”


	2. Art Class AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Pat thinks he knows: the hot model is a starving college student. 
> 
> What Pat doesn’t know: Jonny is actually a ridiculously-paid art lawyer. 
> 
> Or, the comedy of errors where Pat keeps buying the hot model in his life drawing class coffee and Jonny thinks that the cute artist in the life drawing class that he models for is hitting on him with Cafè Americano. For @oldlace and @froggiej for helping me out in looking for the Kaner photo ♥

* * *

“Oh my god. It’s my life drawing class coffee sugar baby.”

Vinnie whipped his head around “What?” while Hartzy let out a puzzled “Who?”

“The hot model in my life class. I feel bad that he has to sit for an hour naked in that cold studio every Wednesday. I’m kind of, like, his caffeine sugar daddy.”

“That makes very little sense since God knows you don’t have enough money in your person to be legitimately anybody’s sugar daddy.”


	3. Regency Arranged Marriage AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is a penniless duke. Patrick is a wealthy nobody. It’s a marriage of convenience, if only falling in love in with your husband wasn’t so inconvenient.

* * *

Jonathan, Duke of Blackburg-Hawke, married Mister Patrick Kane of New York on a cold, late Wednesday evening.

They were married in the crumbling glory of the grand ballroom of Jon’s ancestral seat, Hawke House, while the September rain pounded the grimy french doors that opened to the estate’s overgrown gardens. Excluding themselves and the aging priest, only three other people were in attendance—Sharp, Jon’s valet, Keith, the estate manager and the ducal family’s man of affairs, and Seabrook, his solicitor. Patrick had no one.

Patrick, who rode post-haste from London at the express wishes of his guardian, only had a small leather satchel for his personal effects and nothing else. His collar was damp from the rain and his hands shook from the cold while Jon slipped the wedding ring on Patrick’s pale finger. The ring was his grandfather’s signet and Jon didn’t have the time to have it cleaned, so the silver was dull and looked out-of-place among Patrick’s other rings, which were dazzling in their ostentation.

After the priest had mumbled his prayers and made the necessary religious ablutions, Seabrook set the register in front of them. It was the last act that would seal the ceremony, the legal proof that the marriage had taken place, and Jon’s surety in dragging his family out from the looming spectre of disgrace and the debtor’s prison. Jon took the pen from Seabrook, signing his name along the line quickly. Jon then gave the pen to Patrick, who gripped the pen before swallowing and signing his name, hand faltering on _Toews_.

Once done, Seabrook snapped the register shut and clapped Jon on the back. He and Keith bowed to Patrick, now Lord Blackburg-Hawke, and murmured their congratulations. Sharp ushered them out along with the priest, who was keen to go, the drafty corridors of Hawke House not a welcome place for a man of eighty suffering from arthritis.

Sharp shut the heavy double doors behind him and only Jon and Patrick were left in the ballroom. Patrick, who was now just suddenly being made aware of his surroundings, did a slow-turn, looking around curiously and frowning at the sagging wallpaper and ruined tapestries. Once again, Jon felt the bitter shame of poverty.

“Well, Your Grace. You’ve now found yourself with a fortune and I, well, seem to have found myself with a title.” Patrick spoke quietly, hand trailing on the dusty mantel above the unlit fireplace. There was no money for firewood and the last of the old furniture burned. Patrick looked up at Jon, his eyes tired and resigned. “And a new keeper.”

Jon felt chagrined. He'd been centered too long in his own problems that he’d forgotten what this marriage had also cost Patrick—lonely and far away from home, shunned by society because of the vicious jealousies of people whom he had once called friends—now bound to a stranger who he had to hand a sizable part of his wealth to. Jon didn’t have any illusions on what Patrick felt about him—a penniless duke who married his way to a fortune—but Jon suddenly felt that he very much wanted Patrick to know that they might never be lovers, but that Jon would still honor, protect and respect him as his husband.

“Not a keeper, a husband.” Jon corrected gently. “And you may call me Jon.”


	4. Jedi AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon escapes the Culling and travels across the universe, forgetting.
> 
> Or the AU set in the Star Wars universe where Pat and Jon are Jedi Knights.

* * *

**Coruscant, Jedi Temple**

Jon wakes up buried in the bodies of his fellow Jedi. Loran, small and quick, has a death-gash across his chest. Theer and Qeer, the quiet Twi’lek twins, lie face-down, each still reaching out for the other’s hands. Other Jedi young and old, their faces in the horrified rictus of death, are scattered everywhere like children’s toys haphazardly flung. Around him, the Jedi Temple lies in smoke and ruins, silent but for the crackle and hiss of burning circuitry. The bay where the last of the Baudo-class ships are empty, the ship where Pat was situated already gone. Jon closes his eyes and tries to desperately feel Pat through the Force.

Nothing comes. Jon tries again. And again. Nothing. Panicking, he reaches out blindly towards anyone, anything. Nothing, not the ebb of life from the dying, not the plants withering in the heat of the flames in Master Piell’s solarium.

Jon doubles over, the bile rising in his throat. The Force has deserted him. He can feel nothing.

**Coruscant, CoCo Town**

Jon spends his nights hiding in old crawl spaces and squeezed in maintenance ducts. The collision of his and Skywalker’s wills had greatly exhausted his body, and Jon spends his days sleeping and eating cold gruel furtively scavenged from the bins of food halls. The cessation of his ties with the Force might have inadvertently saved him by making him a blind spot in the Sith’s radar but Jon isn't taking any chances. He grows his beard (”Horrid.” Jon can still remember Pat saying in disgust. “You are no Master Qui-Gon”) and eschews the austere robes of the Jedi to don a discarded quilted silk robe that he finds in an alley.

Jon sees his reflection on the dull metal of a garbage chute.

Jon, Jedi Knight and Sentinel of the Temple, is no more.

**Coruscant, Spaceport**

Jon finds passage as a galley worker in an off-world ship travelling to Lankashiir. There are whispers of a new Sith Lord, a black-cloaked monster called Vader, that has taken command and is hell-bent on weeding out Jedi and Republic sympathizers. The ports are crawling with troopers but Jon passes through without any problems, ducking his head down and keeping to himself.

Once aboard, he looks at the burnt-out husk of the Jedi Temple one more time before he turns his back and goes to his quarters.

**Herdessa Sector, independent small passenger ship, Corellian Beauty**

Sometimes, Jon dreams of Pat. He dreams of Pat talking to him during their idyllic days at the Temple, his hair still in the closely-cropped style of apprentices. In others, he dreams of Pat during the last grim days of the Clone Wars, his hair grown long after the fashion made popular by Anakin Skywalker, curls tangling at the nape of his neck (“People are already saying that you look like him, why do you feel the need to copy his hair too?” Jon groused. Pat smirks at him and trails kisses down his chest. Minutes later, when Jon has his fingers twisted in Pat’s hair, he resolves to never complain about its length, again, ever), pointing at star-maps and strategizing over battlefields.

In this dream, he and Pat are older, and they’re sitting in the den of a wood-and-brick house, the night sounds of owls and crickets creating a peaceful backdrop. Pat’s belly is fat with child and Jon’s whittling a wooden podracer for a boy sitting at his feet. Pat looks up from his holobook to reach for Jon’s hand.

“I’ll find you” Pat smiles. Jon pulls Pat to him and hugs him fiercely. He doesn’t want to ever wake up, to keep himself in this fantasy of a life where there are no Sith and Jedi, no senators with machinations, no Skywalkers with red sabers, no Republic or Empire. Just them.

The dream is cut short by the shrill beeps of an usher droid, mechanical arm prodding him insistently to wake up so that he can board the Kuat-class freighter on time.

Jon is relieved for the wake-up call. He hates those dreams.

**Achillea, farming hamlet of Toris**

The first thing that Jon does after settling down in Toris is burying his saber in the middle of the field of revwien lettuce. He buries it deep enough that Force-adept bounty hunters or the Sith would never find him, but shallow enough that he can still dig it up quickly should the need arise. He buries it bundled in his old Jedi cloak, with some old holobooks and data-tapes.

After much deliberation, he unwraps the blond silk of Pat’s padawan braid around his wrist (”For luck.” Pat had once said, while twining the braid securely. “Why would your hair give me luck? This will probably only give me space lice.” Jon snorted, tucking the braid inside his gloves so that he wouldn’t lose it. Pat had hissed at him like a scalded cat, while Jon laughed) with great care and tucks it in too. Force-blind, he will never find Pat. But Jon thinks that, in this symbolic gesture a year too late, if Pat didn’t make it like so many of their brethren, maybe this can finally put his memory to rest.

**Achillea, main city of Cadriell**

Months pass by when Thelk, the Worrite bartender of the local watering hole, flags Jon down discreetly.

“Someone’s looking for you Jonny, m’lad.” Thelk whispers, his eye-stalks waving in alarm. “Two-legs, like you. Quiet, shod in black, head to foot.” Thelk draws a quick finger down his face. Jon translates it to ‘scar’. “Better be careful. He’s sly, but his questions all point to him looking for Jedi.”

Jon feels a chill down his spine. Thelk’s description can only be the traitor Skywalker, out on his own, hunting down all or any Jedi stragglers for his new master. Jon wraps his cloak tighter around him and nods his head at Thelk in thanks.

Time to go.

**Cularin, Hedrett Public Transport Facility**

In his worst moments, during the few minutes of lucidity before space travel cryo-sleep takes over, Jon remembers what happened in that fateful night in Coruscant. How Skywalker’s betrayal was revealed and how he and the clone troopers overran the vulnerable and ill-defended Temple. How Jon and the other remaining knights held their last stand in the loading bay, Jon carefully depositing Pat in the cockpit of an undamaged ship after a force-blast from Skywalker during their flight from the Grand Hall down to the lower levels had knocked him unconscious.

Jon seeing in his mind’s eye the painful memories of watching his fellow knights fall one by one, until he was the last, Skywalker staring at him, eyes bloodshot.

“Jon. Put your saber down.” Skywalker spoke softly, powering down his saber. “It’s done.”

“Murderer.” Jon spat. “We broke bread with you! We called you friend!”

Skywalker looked past him, straight into the ship that held Pat. “You and I are the same, Jon. We forsook the same oaths. Kept the same secrets. Loved when we shouldn’t.” Skywalker grimaced, a horrible travesty of his former smile. “But why does he get to live and Padme doesn’t?”

Jon’s blood grew cold. “You will not touch him.”

Skywalker laughed meanly, twirling his saber in his palm before tossing it in the air and catching it with one hand on his back. Pat had taught Skywalker that trick, back when Pat and Jon called him ‘Ani’ and the three of them were younglings together in the Temple dormitories.

“Don’t worry Jon. He won’t be alone.”

Jon heard the menacing fwoom of Skywalker’s saber coming to life. Steadying his saber hand and angling his body to prepare for a duel, Jon gathered the Force around him, letting it flow past him and towards the ship that Pat was in. The Force gave him sense-sight—it told him that the ship was primed for travel, with a full energy tank and a new hyperdrive. With just a little pressure on the throttle lever, he could propel it two sectors away from Coruscant, taking Pat along with it to safety.

In a split-second, Jon knew what to do.

“You’re right. I won’t die here alone.” Jon steeled himself. He raised his saber arm in the stance long-forbidden in the pacifism of their Order, feet apart and body held forward.

Form VII. Juyo, called Vaapad by Master Mace Windu and Master Sora Bulq. The killing form.

“I’m taking you with me.”

**Daimla, Ksi Grasslands Market**

The long line of shadow-figures hounding Jon from planet to planet comes to a stop in the open markets of Ksi.

Jon once again feels the prickling unease of being watched. A quick look on the reflective surface of a shelf of metal plates shows his shadow as a small bow-legged human with beady eyes.

He thanks the shopkeeper and hefts the bag of Tangoo melons on his shoulder before walking away, stopping randomly in other shops. Carefully picking his path out of the row of stalls and into a dark alley, a quick turn sees his shadow slammed into a wall, Jon’s arm across his throat and a small knife scant inches from his eye.

“Who sent you, sithspit?” Jon threatens, eyes flinty. “Speak the truth or you’ll find my knife being intimately acquainted with the inside of your skull.”

The man sputters, legs flailing. Jon eases his arm a little, giving the man a little bit of breath to talk.

“Didn’t see his face, kept it covered the entire time.” The man gulps, swallowing lungfuls of air. “Paid in unmarked credits too.”

Jon narrows his eyes, regretful that he no longer has the Force at his disposal to make the sleemo spit the truth. He slams the man against the wall one more time, his teeth rattling at the force of Jon’s strength.

“You better run back to whoever paid you and tell him that I will face him head on. I’m not afraid.” To die, is what Jon doesn’t say. Pat is gone and Jon’s tired of running. Whether he lives for ninety more decades moving from planet to planet or if he dies tomorrow at Skywalker’s hand, it doesn’t matter. He no longer has anything to live for.

**Daimla, edge of Dor Forest**

It’s been a week and Jon nearly forgets about the bounty hunter from the Ksi markets when he feels the air around him picking up. Cupping his hand to shade his eyes, he sees a retrofitted Nubian sleekly preparing to land near the edge of his farm.

The late Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo favored J-type 327 Nubians when she was alive. It’s not difficult for Jon to guess who still favors them, even after her death.

Jon takes a deep breath. He takes out his saber from the wooden box that he’s placed it in, polished again to a high shine after its brief tenure of being buried under the loamy soil of Achillea. Jon has wrapped Pat’s padawan braid around the hilt, held tight by strips of cloth from his old Jedi cloak.

If he dies today, at least a part of Pat, and the dignity of his old life, is with him.

The doors of the Nubian open and a man in a black flight suit goes down the ship’s small ramp. The light of the sun is behind him and Jon can only see the width of the man’s shoulders and the outline of a blond head. Jonny grips his saber tighter.

The man finally comes close enough to see, and Jonny feels his breath stolen from him.

“Jon.” The man breathes. Jon’s grip on his saber loosens, the metal dropping with a dull thud on the hard soil of the field.

Across him, Pat—Pat of his nightmares of smoke, fire and death, Pat of half a decade of hellish, taunting dreams—stands, alive.

Pat’s grown older. Underneath the hood of his black flight suit, his hair, once a riot of curls that the Temple quartermasters despaired over, was combed back, only a few curls escaping on the corners of his ears. His jaw, once smooth with only a down of red-gold littering his cheeks, has a dusting of stubble, accentuating the hard planes of his face. But for all the difference, he was still Jon’s Pat—the same blue eyes the color of calm skies over Scarif, peering from underneath a fan of spiky lashes, the same dimpled cheek, the same soft mouth.

Pat pulls his hood down, hands shaking. “I couldn’t feel you in the Force. But I knew. I knew you lived. The Force said you were dead. But my heart knew you lived.”

“The Force deserted me.” Jon says brokenly, when he finally finds it in himself to speak. “It was like being robbed of my sight or my ability to hear or my sense of touch. I wanted to find you, but I didn’t know how or if it even made sense for me to, with so many dying or dead.” The tears finally come, six years too late. “I’m sorry Pat, I should have tried looking for you—”

Pat moves close, and engulfs Jon in an embrace, arms tight. “It doesn’t matter Jon. I found you.”

**Baraan-Fa, the Kane-Toews farmstead**

Pat’s sitting on a veritable nest of pillows, his belly swollen with child. He’s engrossed over a holobook about a Mustafar bloodbane who fell in love with a metal-trader from Jakku. The plot is ridiculous but Jon has bought all the holobooks in the series because Pat loves them and Jon has been a fool for Pat since they were children. Jon’s whittling a wooden podracer for their son beside him, occasionally leaning over to rub Pat’s calves and ankles. “How long will it take you to travel from here to Crait?” Jon asks. The left wing on the podracer is lopsided so Jon shaves the other side to give it a semblance of balance.

“Maybe a fortnight.” Pat says, without looking up from his holobook.

“You should get another doctor. There are perfectly good birthers here in Baraan-Fa.” Jon mutters. “I heard from Old Sasrit—”

“I know that the old grannies in town adore you but please stop gossiping about wombs and old wives’ tales about deformed babies born under a wheat moon.” Pat huffs. Jon frowns at him. There is nothing wrong about asking people’s opinions. Especially those who’ve been birthing children for decades.

“Jonny, don’t be a grump.” Pat soothes Jon, turning off his holobook to face him. “It’s just less than a month. It’s a nap and a skip and then I’ll be back before you bat your eyes.”

“I’m just worried about all this travelling, in your condition, with the gyroscopes in the Nubian not recently calibrated.” Jon rattles off. Fatherhood has somehow worsened his propensity for worrying. “What if you get lost in some forsaken corner of the sector and I can’t find you?”

Pat laughs and reaches for Jon’s hand. “I’ll find you.”


	5. Star Trek Reboot AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is Captain Patrick Kane, the young and dashing captain of the USS Enterprise. Jonny is Lieutenant Commander Jonn, science officer, first officer and Pat’s primary bubble-burster.
> 
> Or, the AU where Pat is Kirk, Jonny is Spock and there’s pon farr, the grandpappy of all fuck-or-die, mind-melding, soul-bonded tropes. Thank you Gene Roddenbery

****

* * *

**[Stardate 2258.42, 07:00 ST]**

They’re in the middle of a routine diplomatic run between Catulla and Adhara when Hayden sends him a confidential medical evaluation for Jonny:

_Urgent. Detour back to Vulcan. Code Blue, with possible escalation to Code Death._

Jonny’s beside him, eyeing Schmaltz’s report critically. “Captain, Ensign Schmaltz’s post-mission brief covers no detail on the local Catullan fauna that he was supposed to observe.” Jonny taps his finger imperiously on the screen. “This report is of no use to us.”

Pat narrows his eyes. No dying man would find the time to go through a 50,000-word debrief line by line, _thrice_. Then again, maybe this is how Vulcans close to death cope.

**[Stardate 2258.42, 07:55 ST]**

“Jonny’s gonna die if you don’t hightail back to Vulcan in forty-eight hours.” Hayden tells him, face grim, while he plunks his used biothermal gloves in the medical refuse chute.

“Die from what?” Pat’s mind was racing, going through all the possible situations. Was it the Legato virus when they were investigating planetoids off Tau Cygna? A Harvester when they canvassed the debris of a Romulan warship?

Hayden looks at him. “Were you awake enough in our xeniobiology class to know about Vulcan _pon farr_?”

**[Stardate 2258.42, 09:58 ST]**

“The Adharan diplomat is four levels down, and his blood-daughter’s wedding is in eight hours. We can’t go back to Vulcan.” Jonny stands, stone-faced, in front of him in his quarters.

Pat makes a frustrated noise. “You’re going to die, Jonny. _Die_. Has that not sunk in yet?”

“I am confident I will not.” Jonny says calmly, staring at him.

**[Stardate 2258.42, 10:00 ST]**

Pat starts feeling antsy and hot the moment that he leaves his quarters.

**[Stardate 2258.42, 14:07 ST]**

Jonny approaches Pat while Saad runs omega-level emergency code drills. He looks a little bit strained around the eyes. “Captain, permission to leave the bridge to confine myself into my quarters.” (”Can’t he just say ‘I’m going to my room’ like everyone else”, Ensign Hinostroza whispers to Ensign Panarin. Lieutenant Saad pointedly coughs at them from the upper deck)

Pat hooks a finger in his collar. A hot finger of low pain goes up from his belly to his neck. He’s probably coming down with something too.

“Permission granted.” (”And can’t he say ‘Yeah, sure’ like everyone else”, Ensign Hinostroza whispers again. Lieutenant Saad growls threateningly behind him)

**[Stardate 2258.42, 15:15 ST]**

Hayden sends him another urgent message.

“Join Jonny in his quarters.”

And another one.

“ _NOW_.”

**[Stardate 2258.42, 15:15 ST]**

Pat opens the door to a dark room. Jonny’s in the middle of his quarters, sitting on a Terran meditational lotus position. His naked body is covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Jonny?” he says faintly. His fever’s risen and his tongue’s dry. A slow burning itch under his skin has started, and he’s sweating enough to soak his uniform. _Oh God_ , Pat thinks. _Am I dying too_. And then, after a beat. _Dammit, has Jonny infected me with his stupid Vulcan sex-death flu_.

Jonny stands up to Pat calling his name, like a sensuous serpent uncoiling. His entire body is limned silver by the low light from outside his windows. He walks toward Pat, arm raised, palm up. He’s saying something in Vulcan that Pat doesn’t understand.

Pat takes his hand and grips it. He feels a strange wave of relief wash over him.

Jonny smiles at him, a strange private thing. _Huh_ , Pat thinks, suddenly irrationally happy. _Would you look a that. I made Jonn of Vulcana Regar smile_.

It must be the fever because Pat was absolutely certain that he heard Jon’s voice in his head saying,

 _You always do, t’hy’la_.


	6. Porn Audition AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patty Kane is a porn superstar. Jonny Toews just could be the next one.
> 
> Or the AU where Pat works for Stanbo’s Stanboys, Chicago’s major gay porn production studio. Made because   
> \- of this loltastic tweet.  
> \- And seriously. Have you ever seen the Blackhawks player roster? Past and present?  
> \- For @kanerboo, who helped me make the raddest improv-fic in the 1988 channel.

* * *

“What’s your name sweetie?”

“Uh, Jonathan. _Jonny_. Yeah. _Jonny Toews_.” Jonathan said nervously, wiping his palms down the sides of his jeans.

“What she meant was your porn name bud.” A beefy man with an impressive full beard boomed behind her.

“ _Oh_. Uh.” Jesus, he didn’t think of that. The woman was looking at him, expectant. The beefy man looked amused. “Can’t I use my own name, like, you know. Patty Kane?”

The man slapped his thigh and guffawed. “Whoa, whoa. We’re feeling ambitious eh?” The woman thwapped him upside the back of his head without even looking while still making soothing noises at Jonathan, like he was a jittery deer that was a few seconds away from being spooked and bolting. Which Jonathan was, but fortune favors the brave and all that shit. “Are you sure sweetie? Your family and friends okay with that? You’re going to be filming porn videos sweetheart.”

Okay maybe Jonny didn’t entirely think this through. But his family’s always been supportive, so he’s pretty sure they’ll be okay with his life choices.

Even if said choices were getting more… _and more_ … _questionable_. At this point.

Fuck it. Jonathan Bryan Toews has never done anything by halves and he sure as hell isn’t going to start now. He is going to go in there, get naked, and one-up the other porn stars that have been doing Patty Kane wrong. Patty Kane deserves more than some half-assed moans and two tiddlywinks of come. He’s gonna go in there and give Patty Kane the best dick _and_ the best dicking down. And he’s gonna shower Patty with so much come, there’d be a goddamn _flood_. Noah better build that boat.

“Yep.” Jonathan said, popping the P in his mouth. “Put that in. Jonny Toews. _Porn star_.”


	7. Pacific Rim AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Jonathan Toews, decorated member Canadian Special Operations Regiment, knows all the rules and follows them. Dr. Patrick Kane, MIT prodigy and DARPA’s top scientist, learns all the rules and breaks them. 
> 
> Or the AU based on the sci-fi action movie where the two unlikeliest people are brought together to save the world.

* * *

“Who’s your friend Marshall.” Jonathan tilted his chin towards the man beside Pentecost. The man was shorter than Jonathan but thick-set, his arms and shoulders filling out his suit jacket rather nicely. His blond hair was aggressively combed down but a few small strands escaped to curl just above his ears. Jonathan found himself wondering how they’d feel if he twirled those curls between his fingers.

“Captain, may I introduce you to Dr. Patrick Kane, formerly from DARPA’s Strategic Technology Office.”

“Pleasure, Captain Toews.” Pat said briskly, standing up with from his end of the conference table, hand outstretched. Jonathan looked at his hand and gave a curt nod.

“ _Well_.” Patrick said aloud. “You military types always this dickish?”

“I don’t have time to make nice with suits, even if they are from DARPA.” Jonathan gritted his teeth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have drills to run.”

Patrick grinned and leaned forward, all shiny teeth and dimples. “Well, Captain. I hear you don’t have time to make nice with anybody, seeing as you’ve rejected all the candidates that were forwarded to you for compatibility. Keep that up and you’re never setting foot in a jaeger.”

“No one made the cut.” Jonathan scoffed. “And that information’s confidential.”

Patrick made a rude noise. “You didn’t let anyone make the cut.” Patrick looked at him and maybe Jonathan was imagining it, but he could’ve sworn that Patrick’s eyes very briefly just skated down from his face to his chest. “Too bad for them, but lucky for me.”

Jonathan squinted his eyes dangerously. “And what, exactly, do you mean by that.”

Pentecost was looking at them both, eyes shrewd. “Gentlemen, why don’t I tell you the reason why I brought the two of you here.”

“If you want me to babysit another intelligence officer, have Saader do it.” Jonathan stood up, chair scraping backward. “I’m done here.”

Pentecost held his hand up and motioned for Jonathan to sit down. “Captain, Patrick is not an intelligence officer. He’s here because he’s going to be tested for drift compatibility with _you_.”


	8. Tomb Raider AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Kane is a globe-trotting billionaire archaeologist. Jonathan Toews is a former Canadian Special Forces captain. Together, they dodge bullets, stop thieves and ignore feelings.
> 
> Or the AU that’s very loosely based on Square Enix’s Tomb Raider series. Pat doesn’t wear skimpy tank tops in this version, sadly. For the @ablackhawkssummer fest. Jazz hands.

* * *

  **Marrakech, Morocco; January**

 

“You’re late.” Patrick snapped his newspaper shut in annoyance. Around him, The Royal Mansour glittered, all shining zellige tilework and silk draperies.

He was fifteen minutes early. Jonathan frowned.

 

**Ténéré, Niger; February**

 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re associates with _Tyler Seguin_?” Jonathan spat, twisting the word ‘associate’ viciously. “He’s been in Interpol’s list since he was _twenty_.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re friends with a certain Timothy Leif Oshie, previously of Washington DC, and now legal attaché to Egypt?”

“TJ is not running an international multi-billion dollar smuggling ring.” Jonathan gritted out.

“Segs is not sending ghost agents to kill me in my sleep. Oh, but of course you didn’t know that. Old college buddy _TJ_ ,” Patrick sat back, defiant, on the folding camp chair “didn’t want to let you know.” The chair squeaked in protest, not used to the full bulk of a 200-pound man. Patrick, whose body was always clothed even in the Saharan heat, was deceptive in his bulk. Jonathan had seen him shirtless and knew the hard planes of muscle that he kept hidden under his tailored shirts and ratty button-downs.

Jonathan exhaled. “If we’re going to work together, we can’t have these secrets between us.”

 

**Khirokitia, Cyprus; March**

 

Patrick was on his third bottle of Commandaria when he looked sideways at Jonathan and said “I want you but I won’t fuck anyone under my pay.”

Jonathan stared. Patrick’s skin, after being an angry red for a month, had settled into a light, honey-colored tan. It made the blue of his eyes stand out. In the fading evening light, the blond spikes of his eyelashes cast shadows on his sun-freckled cheeks.

“No secrets, right? So I’m telling you. And now it’s your turn.” Patrick waved the bottle, liquid sloshing around dangerously.

Jonathan pried the bottle from his hands.

“I want you but I don’t fuck the person who writes my paycheck.”

 

**Mosul, Iraq; April**

 

A basalt statue of Shalmaneser II stared down at them while Jonathan desperately tried to staunch the bullet wound near Patrick’s thigh. _Don’t let it be the femoral artery_ , he prayed. He was soaked up to his elbows in Patrick’s blood, the tourniquet rubber band slick and slipping between his fingers. Above him, the gods of Nimrud and Nineveh stood wide-eyed and silent. Jonathan would’ve prayed to them too if only to make sure that someone would hear his fervent pleas: _please don’t let it be the femoral artery please pleasepleaseohgod **please don’t let Pat die**_.

“Jonny,” Patrick was slurring, his white-knuckled grip on Jonathan’s arm slowly going lax. “Jonny, give me the morphine.” Patrick smiled at him, lips dry and pale-gray. “It’s okay, you have to let me go.”

In the distance, Saader was screaming for them to get moving. The choppy whir of helicopter blades grew closer and closer. Somebody was pulling Jonathan up.

For once in his life, Jonathan disobeyed a direct order.

 

**Cairo, Egypt; May**

 

There was a man waiting for him in his hotel room.

“Good morning, Mr. Toews. I am Artemi Panarin, Mr. Kane’s secretary.” The man said, voice all pleasantries and business while his English was all hard consonants and slurring zh’s. Russian, Jonathan thought. Probably somewhere south-west, maybe Chelyabinsk.

“In behalf of Mr. Kane, your services are no longer needed and your contract has been terminated.” Artemi pushed a nondescript black duffel bag forward. “A bonus has been added for a job well done in” Artemi’s eyes slowly flicked towards one of the walls. They were being watched. “handling certain extraneous circumstances.”

Jonathan thought back on Patrick’s eyes shuttering close, the rise and fall of his chest slowly growing weaker and far between. Jonathan’s hands getting tacky with blood, the metallic smell sharp on his nose. Hayden had to pry his hands open for the doctors to get to Patrick.

_Extraneous circumstances._

“Did Pat—did Mr. Kane leave any message for me?”

Artemi paused from where he was gathering his briefcase at his feet. “Mr. Kane says he doesn’t want to pay you anymore.”

 

**Illinois, USA; June**

 

“You’re late.” Patrick tapped his sneakered feet in annoyance. Behind him, the United Center was festooned in Blackhawks colors, in deference to the Stanley Cup Finals.

He was fifteen minutes early. Jonathan smiled.


	9. Musicians AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is a pop-rap sensation. Jonny’s an alt-country singer-songwriter. Between them, there’s 8 albums, 5 sold-out concert tours, 7 Grammys, two wedding rings and a 10-year love story that no one knows—witnessed only by the lyrics of their songs.
> 
> Or the AU that’s very loosely based from a plot bunny that was spawned with @j19toews, @namesintherafters and @fenweak. This isn’t even close to the beautiful Voice AU that you guys came up with, hope you don’t mind that I ran with it anyway.

 

* * *

“‘ _Blue Eyes, Pink Mouth_ ’, ‘ _Love Like An Angel_ ’, ‘ _Candy Kane_ ’ and the last one, ‘ _1988_ ′—a collab with Pat that’s really coming strong with the romantic vibes—have gotten the fans talking. You telling us here something Jonny?” the reporter grinned. “You’ve been writing your songs on this mystery girl for years now. But recently, fans have been speculating that this is getting serious. Are we gonna see a sweet little number hanging from your arm soon?”

Jonny hmm-ed thoughtfully. Beside him, Pat cleared his throat. Jonny laughed, a high-pitched cross between a guffaw and a giggle, and flicked Pat’s ear. Pat swatted him on the chest in annoyance.

“Cabbie, give it up. He didn’t tell you last year and he ain’t telling you now.” Pat grumped.

“That’s true, but it won’t hurt to try.” The reporter waggled his eyebrows. “How about you Pat? Anything you’d like to say about your new album?”

Jonny groaned while Pat smiled, all obnoxious teeth and twinkling eyes.

“Don’t mind if I do. Let’s talk about the first single off my new album—I think this one’s gonna be a hit Cabbie, not to brag—and it’s called” Pat looked at Jonny sideways. Jonny suddenly found himself determinedly studying the weave of his jeans. “‘ _Booty Like That_ ’.”


	10. Dream Daddy AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re Jon, the new guy in the neighborhood. You’re hot (hey, everyone says so), single and so, so, so ready to mingle. You meet Pat—blonde cutie, Hawks fan and stats nerd. He’s perfect for you. But it’s not that easy, because you have to win over your Dream Daddy.
> 
> Or the AU that’s loosely based on the popular dating sim, Dream Daddy. Jonny’s your character in this dating game, and he has absolutely no game. Maybe you could help him out?

* * *

You have three choices right now.

You could ask the guy (who’s cute, you are so _fucked_ ) for directions, and maybe slip in a smile or two. You could also exclaim over the very fortuitous way that you’re both wearing Blackhawks merch and maybe let that conversation take off from there (hockey game dates, _oh yes_ ). Or you could just walk away and pretend that you never saw Mr. Scruffy-Jaw-Baby-Blues.

You choose to turn around and walk away. You don’t see the disappointed look on the guy’s face.

Would you like to start over?


	11. Cam Boy AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is candykane88. Jonny is in love.
> 
> Or the AU where Jonny accidentally meets the (cam) boy of his dreams. For Diana @j19toews.

* * *

Jonny nervously fiddled with the paper napkins, twisting and untwisting them between his fingers. After weeks of chatting, he’d finally shored up the courage to ask Pat out.

They’d met in Tinder, when Jonny was idly flipping through profiles during a lull in his scheduled meetings. It’d been a spur-of-the moment swipe, as Jonny wasn’t really looking to actually talk to anyone. But Pat was cute and he’d always liked them with baby blues and blond curls.

Pat had messaged first, with a cheeky

_interesting position there_

And Jonny, amused because he knew exactly where Pat was looking, responded with

 _gotta let em know what they’re getting_  

Pat turned out to be a total softie, which completely jarred with the few grainy and badly-lit frat boy photos that he would send. Jonny was endeared with how Pat stayed up late marathoning soaps, watched the most ridiculous Lifetime biopic dramas and thoughtfully curated care packages for his sisters who were all studying in college.

Now Jonny’d get to see him in the flesh and all his anxieties of Pat not liking him when he finally saw Jonny in person were rearing their ugly heads. Jonny was in his late twenties and was working in some middle-management role in a fintech company. He’d spent the last few years single because of the demands of his work, his only relief occasionally tugging it out while watching perfectly cut cam boys jacking off in front of cameras. Hardly exciting enough to date with someone as lively and as good-looking as Pat, who was always surrounded by his equally lively and ridiculously gorgeous college friends.

“Jonny?” someone spoke to his left. Jonny looked up and, _oh_.

He’d never seen eyes like that on a boy. And that mouth which was currently nervously chewing at the pendant of a gold chain necklace—

_Wait._

Jonny knew that _mouth_. Jonny knew that _necklace_.

Jesus. He’d seen it open enough times to know, panting while fisting his cock in front of his computer screen. He’d seen that necklace laid out on a broad chest, flushed prettily from an orgasm. He’d seen that mouth idly biting that chain necklace every Friday, when **candykane88** , cam boy extraordinaire and recurring object of Jonny’s nightly sex fantasies, uploaded his videos. Jonny had a _subscription_.

Holy _fuck_.

_Pat was **candykane88**._

Jonny felt faint.


	12. Eros and Psyche AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny marries a mysterious man who only visits him at night, in the dark. 
> 
> Or the Greek mythology AU very loosely based on Apuleius’ Metamorphoses, where Patrick is Eros and Jonny is Psyche.

* * *

 

“Who’re you?” Jon asked. “And where’s Pat?”

After a few fruitless searches around the vast property, Jon had stumbled upon [two men in the library](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/4f/b6/3c/4fb63cb958529ec53d413864f8e7e430.jpg), seemingly lost in conversation with each other. Both men looked up, though none moved to go closer from where Jon was standing near the door. The man standing spoke to him.

“So you’re Jonathan.” He said. He had a merry face with handsome features. “Can I call you Jonny?” Before Jon could answer, he spoke again, seemingly uninterested in actually hearing what Jon’s answer was. “Well Jonny, my boy. Love don’t live here no more.”

Only the seated man found him funny. Jonny didn’t.

“Where can I find him? I have to explain—“

“Love don’t live anywhere where this isn’t any trust, Mr. Toews.” This time it was the seated man who spoke, and he did it so softly that Jon almost didn’t catch what he was saying. “He’s gone. You’ve fucked up.” Jon winced. The standing man touched the other’s shoulder in warning, but the seated man continued. The gentle monotone of his voice didn’t smooth over the words that he had to say to Jon.

“He gave you a grand house and let you live in it, rent-free. He kept you and fed you and gave the clothes that you have on your back. All he asked was for you to trust him.” He looked at Jon with sadness. “But you didn’t. Was it so important to know what he was and what he looked like? Wasn’t his love not enough for you?”

“I.” Jon couldn’t find anything to say. He remembered Pat’s face, the look of betrayal that he gave Jonny before he disappeared. “I just want him back.” was all he could manage.

“Love doesn’t come back that easily.” the standing man spoke once again. “You humans think everything’s that easy—I want to, I need to, I have to, _I will_. An eon of wilfully ignoring the price of your actions has left you spoiled.” he said, pity mixing with disdain.

The man was right, and Jon had only known the cost when it was too late. Pat’s nightly voice now gone, maybe forever, never to whisper to him ever again.

“I will do anything, _anything_ , to get him back.”


	13. Immortal Lovers AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world began with them and it will end with the two of them.
> 
> Or the AU that’s very very loosely based on Only Lovers Left Alive, in the sense that Pat and Jonny are vampires but are not affected by the usual vampire lore of daytime, silver, garlic, etc.

* * *

Jonathan scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar riot of curls and the new-penny shine of Patrick’s hair. (An aging Florentine painter, while painting Patrick’s portrait, had once stroked his hair in adoration and had grandly proclaimed it from the spool of Athena herself. Jonathan had no love for the gloomy tempera and oils of the Renaissance, preferring the airy watercolors of the Impressionists, but he still kept the painting out of sentimentality.)

From past his shoulder, he sensed him. That familiar tug in his breastbone, the thrum of blood familiar as his own heartbeat.

Jonathan turned. Patrick was wearing a double-breasted suit, shirt crisp and pocket square in place. Eschewing the usual airport wear, he wore Italian hand-stitched loafers, and carried a small leather carryall in his hand. Jonathan felt distinctly under-dressed in his leather jacket and jeans.

“Hello my love.” Patrick smiled and wrinkled his nose. “You look… _shabby_.” Jonathan missed that, the mischievous, kitten-like way that he teasingly scrunched his face to show his distaste in either his clothes, his food or simply at Jonathan himself.

“One can’t always find a millionaire who would gladly throw money to clothe, wine and dine me in the Majorcas.” Jonathan said, miffed. (”You are still richer than him” Patrick patted his hand in consolation. Jonathan stared at him “I don’t know why you trouble yourself, you are richer than both of us.”) He took Patrick’s carryall and slung a hand across his waist. “And how is Mr. Hartman?”

“Still rich. Or at least when I left him.” Patrick said breezily. “And how about, yes, what was his name? Bryan? Ryan? Ben? _Brandon_?”

“Jealous?” Jonathan nudged him. “I wasn’t jealous of that pet musician that you kept in the Sixties (”Shaw” Patrick reminded him) nor when you imperiled yourself—to my great anxiety—trying to rescue that little aristocrat from Petrograd, right under the Bolshevik’s noses, all because you found his face pretty." (”Artemi” Patrick sighed sadly)

“Let’s not talk about them anymore.” Patrick tossed his head haughtily. A woman dressed from head to toe in Chanel stared at Patrick hungrily. Jonathan glared, and she hastily turned away. “I came for you, my darling, and no one else.” Patrick squeezed Jonathan’s hand.

“I know my love, my heart.” Jonathan looked at him, fond. ”You always come back to me.”


	14. Childhood Sweethearts AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat and Jonny grow up as each other’s firsts and grow old as each other’s lasts.
> 
> Or the sap-tastic AU dedicated to Diana @j19toews because I’ve been causing her grief with all my growing up together AU ideas.

* * *

 

They were halfway through the grilled salmon when Jonny—after holding a lengthy and non-verbal dialogue with Pat that was mostly communicated through raised eyebrows, glares and pouts—cleared his throat and said

“Pat and I are together.”

The table stilled. Jonny counted to three under his breath before steeling himself and reaching beside him to hold Pat’s hand and run through the speech that he’d prepared. Pat nodded at him encouragingly.

“I know this is a shock but Pat and I are in love, we have been for a long time, actually, and we want you to know that—”

Donna was the first to speak. “Is this just what the dinner’s for?” she asked, looking very disappointed. Surprisingly.

Pat squinted at her, suspicious. “Wait mom, what do you mean by ‘just’?” while Andrée cut him off to smoothly say “But we’ve always thought that both of you knew that we knew, sweetheart.”

“What.” Jonny said flatly.

“I mean, the shock was more along the lines of us expecting that by the end of this dinner there’d be a marriage announcement.”

“Or at least an engagement.” Donna piped up, looking at them both. She flapped her hands at them. “You being together is so old news. Everyone knows!”

“But we’ve been so careful.” Pat whispered, faint.

“Honey, you went to prom together. I bought a boutonniere for Jonny. There’s a picture in our living room of you pinning it to his suit jacket.”

“Not to mention that time that Jonny kissed you in preschool and Jonny cried because you wouldn’t talk to him for days.” Andrée reminded Pat. Beside him, Jonny looked absolutely mortified.

Donna stood up, and patted both their hands. “Next time that the of you invite both of us over for dinner, we expect better news. Like a marriage date.”

Andrée smiled over her wine. “Or grandchildren.”


	15. Kitten!Kaner and Puppy!Tazer AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat’s a fuzzy ginger tabby. Jonny’s a floppy puppy. Nobody knows how (or why). 
> 
> Or kitten!Kaner and puppy!Tazer, the rookie years. For Diana @j19toews because ROOKIE CUDDLES AND SMOOCHES.

* * *

In all honesty, this wasn’t probably the weirdest thing that Patrick Sharp had heard about in the NHL.

Not just dollar trades or Taro Tsujimoto stuff, mind you. Rumors like the Bell Centre having a small trapdoor that led to a London pub, Sidney Crosby owning a wish-fulfilling jockstrap and Bettman being a hobgoblin, just to name a few. (The first one was totally bull, since it wasn’t a London pub, it was just some piffling gas station in Waco, Texas. The hobgoblin and jockstrap rumors? _May actually possibly be true._ )

Sharpy’s heard some pretty wild rumors. But since he hasn’t really seen any actual weird shit around the Hawks (just normal weird, not _magical weird_ weird), he thanked his lucky stars that he’s employed by a relatively normal organization.

So when he saw a kitten napping on Kaner’s stall, his first thought clearly wasn’t ‘weird shit happening alert alert’ but more along the lines of ‘how did that kitten get in here’.

“Okay little dude, how’d you get in here.” A quick poke around the kitten’s neck saw no collars or tags so it was probably a stray. A very clean stray, though. And judging from the tiny pudge around its belly, well-fed too. The kitten had now woken and was blearily blinking at him. “The locker room’s no place for a kitten, let’s see if I can get you over to the building staff.” Sharpy shifted his arm so that he can heft his bag up to go when, suddenly, a series of loud high-pitched yips came from the hall outside the locker area.

“What in the world.” The loud barks had woken the kitten from where he was already snoozing on Sharpy’s arm, and it jumped down to reassuringly butt his head at the puppy’s nose who had planted itself firmly beside Sharpy’s feet and had been glaring up at him. The puppy stopped glaring to flop down on the floor, tail wagging as it gave little happy licks all over the kitten’s face.

Sharpy squinted at both the kitten and the puppy. Why did he have this weird feeling that he’d seen these two before.


	16. Goblin King AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny’s a babysitter who accidentally loses a baby. By a stroke of sheer fortune (or misfortune), it’s the Goblin King who finds him. And he’s not going to give him up without Jonny giving something back, willingly, in return.
> 
> Or the AU that’s very very very loosely based in the Labyrinth, and I say loosely because I last watched that movie when I was in primary school and my recollection’s a bit fuzzy and I might have played around with the plot a bit.

* * *

The ballroom was gilt and marble, and it felt like Jonny had walked into a dream. The light was made soft by the candles burning from the gold chandeliers. Invisible hands played a somber waltz, while masked figures swayed to and fro, dressed in velvet and brocade.

He stepped forward and eerily, as one, the entire host of dancers stopped, and turned towards him. The blank eyes of their carnival masks all stared at him, creepy and unblinking.

“Hello Jonny.” the Goblin King called out. The dancers parted to make a clear path, and at the end of it was Patrick sitting on a throne on a dais, with Toby on his knee.

“I’ve come for Toby.” Jonny spoke out, voice ringing in the absolute silence of the ballroom.

Toby squealed delightedly at Jonny, hands curled in excited fists. Patrick stood up, carrying Toby on the crook of his arm.

“I can’t just give up this adorable child. I saw him, fair and square, alone.”

“He’s not a random thing that you can just claim as yours.” Jonny gritted out. “He has parents who’ll be looking for him. Give him back.”

Patrick tut-tutted. “Oh, but who was it that left him like a random thing so that I could find him and claim him as mine?” Patrick did a little jig and Toby let out a pleased little gurgle. “Yes, it was silly silly Jonny, wasn’t it Toby?” Toby _buh_ ’d as if to say accusingly yes and Patrick kissed him noisily in delight.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but please give him back.” Jonny wasn’t above begging. He was miles away from home and any semblance of reason. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

In retrospect, when Jonny thought back, he shouldn’t have said that. But hindsight only comes after and now, Patrick, the Goblin King, was smiling slowly at him over Toby’s head.

“Oh, not _anything_ , Jonny.” He stepped down from the dais and walked towards Jonny. He stopped in front of him to point a finger on his chest, drawing a line down over Jonny's heart.

“Just _this_ one thing.”


	17. Robot AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat doesn’t mourn. He builds.
> 
> Or the AU where Pat is a world-renowned engineer who’s never forgotten his first love. I made myself cry making this and I feel so dumb.

* * *

Abby notices it during their weekly dinner. It’s been a standing invitation since Pat was was still Sharpy’s pimply, wild-haired TA and it hasn’t changed in the decade that they’ve known each other.

“You doing something Pat? New haircut? New clothes?” Abby teases. Sharpy mock gasps “Are you actually paying attention to what you look like again?”

“Fuck off” is what Pat says, throwing a spiral noodle in Sharpy’s direction. But he’s smiling, dimple deepening. _Huh_ , Sharpy thinks.

 

“If you’ve met someone, don’t be a dick and introduce her to us, will you? Or him.” Sharpy nonchalantly says over their working lunch a week later. “We’re not horrible people, we won’t try to embarrass you.”

“Abby won’t.” Pat says, chewing on a pen distractedly, and looking over the schematics for a new pneumatic system. “You will, because you’re Patrick Sharp and you’ve been embarrassing me since college.”

“Ha! So you do admit that there’s someone new!” Sharpy triumphantly shouts, pointing a highlighter accusingly. “Look at me in the eye and tell me there isn’t.”

Patrick looks at him squarely in the eye. “No, there isn’t someone new.”

 

Sharpy juggles the coffee cups and manila folders in his hands. It’s Thursday and normally he’d leave Pat alone in the only day of the week that he’s marked as his do-not-disturb day but Sharpy desperately needed help with the new assembly line system for a big pharma client and Pat was the only person in the entire department who could breeze through figuring out mixed-integer programming models.

Pat’s house still had the same keycode so he let himself in, toeing his shoes off the floor. “Pat! I need your help—”

“Pat’s upstairs.” a voice from the kitchen calls out. A voice that Sharpy hasn’t heard in years. A figure emerges from the kitchen doorway, wiping his hand carefully in a dish towel. “Can I help you?”

Sharpy doesn’t feel the cup crumbling in his hands, scalding his hand and staining his loafers. _Jesus, it can’t be._

Pat chooses that moment to come barreling down from the staircase, shouting “Sharpy, fuck, I told you I don’t want to be disturbed—”

Sharpy just looks at him incredulously. “Pat. Patrick. What is this? _What are you doing?_ ”

Pat looks at him stubbornly. “I know what I’m doing Sharpy.” In the background, the figure looks at them both curiously, eyes assessing. Same eyes, same mouth, same everything. The same scar on the upper lip and near the chin. Pat could win a Nobel Prize for this, this was light years from anything Germany or Japan could produce. But Pat won’t tell anyone, and Sharpy wanted to _weep_.

And Sharpy suddenly remembers, Pat saying, in that fateful dinner weeks ago, _no there isn’t someone new_ and everything just _clicks_.

“Oh, Pat. He’s not Jonny. He could never be Jonny. _Jonny’s gone_.”


	18. Merfolk and Sirens AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat has a tail and Jonny does not, but they still both live happily ever after in the sea.
> 
> Or the self-indulgent growing-up together-slash-royalty-slash-mythological creatures AU where Pat is a prince of the merfolk and Jonny is a lord of the Deep. Because I felt the need for a whimsical fairytale-ish edit today.

* * *

The first time that Patrick sees Jonathan, he asks curiously “Why don’t you have a tail?” and then he perks up. “Are you from above? Are you a _landwalker_?”

The tailless boy glares and swims away, bubbles left trailing in his wake.

_How rude_ , Patrick thinks, and frowns.

 

“They are _sireni_ , sweetheart. They live in the Deep.” his mother explains years later. Erica, all-knowing and obnoxious, whispers to him “They say that sireni can walk Above. That they sit in the rocks and sing the most beautiful songs to lure the landwalkers to their death.”

Patrick gasps and Erica grins evilly. Their mother shushes them both.

The Sireni Queen floats toward them and their mother, the Merqueen, bows. Patrick sees their not-tails, and thinks on how funny they look. The Sireni Queen’s son, now grown, catches him staring and glares at him again. Patrick has the grace to blush.

 

The sireni visit again and Patrick gets into a fight. With Jonathan, of course. Patrick sometimes has vivid dreams of dragging him Above and leaving him there to gasp away and die.

“I will not be bullied by a tailless… _slug_! With the face of a _cowfish_!” Patrick storms angrily in the palace, leaving a froth of bubbles behind him. Jonathan follows closely, shouting “Well, I will not be lectured by someone who’s half a _sardine_!”

“Lovers quarrel, pay it no mind!” the chamberlain, Sharpy, claps his hands to get the gathered onlookers’ attention. “Go on now, nothing to see here.”

 

Jonathan doesn’t visit for many years. Patrick tells everyone that it’s good riddance. Only Artemi knows that he pores over Jonathan’s gifts at night and places them on the rocks beside his bed before he goes to sleep.

 

Patrick is nervous and keeps flicking his fins. Shawzy tamps it down with his own tail in annoyance.

“He will be here.”

“What if he isn’t?”

“Bollig and I will hunt him down, roll him in a bed of anemones, _thrice_ , and then feed him to the moray eels.”

“Your love for me is very touching.”

 

The trumpets sound and Patrick shyly holds out his hand. Jonathan takes it, kisses it, and holds it fast to his chest.

Somewhere, Schmaltzy whispers, “Thank Poseidon.” Kitty nods and says “Now we’ll just have to deal with their children.” Beside them, Hartzy makes a resigned face.


	19. Racing AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat is Lightning McQueen, but without actually being an actual racing car and Jonny is the small-town mechanic-slash-retired-Indy 500 legend.
> 
> Or the AU that’s a little bit Doc Hollywood and a little bit Cars, where Pat plays the flashy race car driver stuck in the middle of nowhere and Jonny plays the grumpy mechanic who gets saddled with the task of taking the newcomer under his wing. For @miss-malheur who mentioned Pat as a race-car driver with his racing stripes in our conversation once.

* * *

Pat smelled, rather than heard, Jonny coming towards him. He smelled of the clean antiseptic smell of generic soaps and no-brand dollar store shampoo. Funny, because he grew up watching Jonathan Toews surrounded by million-dollar racing cars but now here he was. Living in a town of a hundred people and keeping his money in an old mayonnaise jar.

Pat’s heart ached because he knew racing was both in their veins. And Jonny just gave it up. _Unthinkable_.

Jonny came up to him and circled Patrick’s waist with his arms, kissing his head tenderly.

“My car’s nearly done. I saw you put in the last of the replacement parts.” Patrick spoke. Jonny hummed, non-committal. Patrick turned around. “If I go back, come with me.”

Jonny’s face closed with annoyance. “I said no. That’s not my life anymore.”

“You don’t have to race! You can work with the crew, or you can manage me, you managed yourself when you were still driving—“

“That’s enough Pat. I don’t want to go back.”

Pat rallied on. “—I saw the documentaries about you! Those interviews when you told people that racing was your dream! How could you just let that go?”

“I chased after those dreams, Pat. I got really good at it too. But I went too fast and hit a wall that put me in a coma for weeks! And when I woke up, everyone had already moved on to the next hotshot driver that they could place in my seat.” Jonny’s chest heaved with the effort of trying to keep himself in check. “I’d rather have a life that I can have _here_ , without killing myself, than die chasing a dream over _there_.”


	20. Pirate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Kane is Hurricane Jack, lusty pirate of the High Seas. Jonathan Toews is the captain that’s supposed to catch him. But really, who’s catching who.
> 
> Or the improbable and silly little pirate AU where Pat is less ‘terror of the High Seas’ and more ‘error of the High Seas’ while Jonny spends a lot of his time being tied to his bedposts by the pirate that he’s supposed to be apprehending. Done because I was playing Black Sails on the background while I read jezziejay’s Make His Brown Eyes Blue and had a sudden craving for something silly and pirate-y. Arr.

* * *

Hurricane Jack sent a message to Governor Quenneville on a balmy Tuesday morning while the governor was breaking his fast in Port Royal. It was a small slip of torn vellum, inserted between the loaves of freshly-baked bread. It read

_‘Parley, if ye be brave!’_

in tiny cramped letters. Below it was a tiny blotchy ink doodle of himself, bleeding from a knife-stab to the head, and beside him was a smaller figure that looked like his captain but with, oddly enough, a tiny little heart and arrow. Quenneville’s mustache bristled indignantly. He crumpled the ridiculous note in one large meaty hand and bellowed for his trusty Captain Toews.

The parley was held after much deliberate care and a multitude of sneakily sent messages. In the end, both parties decided that an undisclosed sandbar off the Greater Antilles would be best, far from prying eyes and marauding Spanish warships.

Hurricane Jack was already settled in nicely when the governor and his party arrived. He had a tea table set in the middle of the sand, with a full English service laid out, from tiny fragile teacups to little pots of honey and marmalade for the crumpets. The pirate himself was seated on an ostentatious velvet wing chair, while at least three of his men hovered near his elbow.

“Governor Quenneville! At last!” He greeted effusively, standing from his seat. And to the captain, he twinkled “Hullo Jonny.”

Before the governor could speak, Captain Toews slapped his hand down the table, dislodging the artfully arranged pears. “Enough of this nonsense, Patrick. _Come home_. Your dear mother is worried sick and writes me letters that she has not heard from you for months!”

(” _Patrick_? Who in the blazes is _Patrick_?” the governor blustered. One of Hurricane Jack’s pirates shrugged.)

“No, I will not, _Jonathan_.” the pirate sneered. “My _heart_ ” and Hurricane Jack, apparently named with the very mundane real name of ‘Patrick’, dramatically clutched his hands to his chest. “is broken and only the sea can make me forget.”

Jonathan threw his hands up in exasperation. “Oh, for the love of! For the last time, _I did not spurn you_!”

(”Tea, your grace?” A particularly hirsute pirate offered a dainty teacup to the governor, who was looking more and more confused by the minute.)

Patrick jabbed his finger on Jonathan’s chest. “I proposed marriage and you said ‘no’!”

“We were fifteen and I said ‘I want to think about it!’“ Jonathan snatched the finger that Patrick kept viciously jabbing on his sternum. “And fine! I will say ‘yes’ if it makes you stop this ridiculousness!”

“Alright! Then I accept!” Patrick shouted. “Sunday, at St Peter’s!”

“Good!” Jonathan huffed. “Tell your men to take a bath, I will not be happy if our wedding is pervaded by foul-odored men.” Jonathan spun on his heel. “Come, governor. This parley has ended and Hurricane Jack is no more.”


	21. Dog Sitter AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat accidentally becomes the dog sitter to the (NHL) stars. Jonny keeps flirting with him via nakedness and ref magnets.
> 
> Or the 1988 remix based loosely on LoadedGunn’s The One Where Harry Really Doesn’t Have Ten Cats. This edit went through so many incarnations (it started as some sort of summer AU and then Jonny became a vet and then there was another time when Shooter was involved) and when I finally decided with Pat being a dog-sitter, I remembered that there was a delightful 1D fic of the same theme and I was like ‘why not make a 1988 version?’ Voila. An AU of an AU.

* * *

It starts, oddly enough, with Tyler Paul Seguin.

Pat met Tyler while he was in Switzerland during a gap year, when he was dicking around in a backpack to and fro Europe. They both came to a rager wearing the same blue flannel shirts and Tyler, who was soused to the gills with badly-mixed margaritas and wearing a cocktail umbrella behind one ear, shouted “ _twinsies_!”. Pat, equally drunk, didn’t quite connect drunk gigglebro-Tyler with actual Tyler Seguin, famous hockey player, until much, much later when he saw the Stanley Cup tattoo on Tyler’s torso while doing body shots off his abs.

“Oh my God, you’re _Tyler Seguin_!” Pat squeaked.

“The one and only.” Tyler-Motherfricking-Seguin waggled his eyebrows.

“Can I blow you?” Pat said, wiping his mouth from the remaining traces of salt and lime with one hand and the other already fumbling with unbuckling Tyler’s belt.

“Oh for sure, but” Tyler held up a finger. Or maybe it was two fingers. Pat shouldn’t have mainlined those jaegerbombs “only as bros. I’ve got an eye on a boy back home.” Tyler said solemnly.

Pat nodded gravely. He and Tyler fist-bumped, respecting the sanctity of no-strings-attached bro-blowjobs.

They’d exchanged numbers afterwards but Pat was a pretty level-headed dude so he didn’t really expect Tyler Seguin to keep in touch with him, probably writing him off as a drunk blowjob in Switzerland. Which was why it was a surprise when he got a call from an unknown number months later.

“Kaner!” the caller said cheerfully and without preamble “Are you back in the Land of the Free?”

“Who is this?” Pat asked blankly. So maybe he was a little bit free with his phone number in Europe, sue him.

“Uh, Tyler Seguin? Bro, my feelings are hurt that you didn’t save my number.” he could hear Tyler pouting on the other end of the line. Pat rolled his eyes.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry about that.” Pat flopped around in bed trying to find a way to escape from his duvet-burrito. “So yeah, what’s up?”

“See, I’m gonna be out for a week and my mom and sisters are in Cala Millor working on their tan and I have no one to leave my babies to in a pinch, since most of my team members’ families also have things going on” Tyler rambled. Pat heard things being rustled and zipped “and I was like, ‘oh whoever shall I leave my babies with!’ and then I was like ‘wait I have this cool bro who I met in Switzerland that said he’d be staying with some dudes in Dallas once he comes back and he studied baby psychology—’”

“Child psychology.” Pat corrected mildly.

“—and I was like ‘why not?? Puppies and babies should be the same!’ and here I am bro.” Tyler ended. “Can you do me a solid and dog-sit for my babies while I’m out? I can pay you and you can stay in my house for free.”

“I can just do it for free, you know. The prospect of staying in your house and living there rent-free for a week is payment enough.”

“Oh, think of it as an allowance then” Tyler said breezily “for taking care of my babies. So will you do it?”

Pat liked dogs. Pat liked money. Pat liked sweet NHL bachelor digs. There wasn’t really a con in this situation here.

“Alright. But just this once.”


	22. Dune AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Patrick is a Corinno princeling and Jonathan is an Atreides noble. 
> 
> Or the self-indulgent AU where House Corinno is America and House Atreides is Canada. Loosely based on the universe of Frank Herbert’s Dune. Without, of course, the death and the feuds and the messianic prophecies. Also TJ and Pat are BrosTM because the Oshie-Kane Bro-hood is an Underrated Golden Plot Opportunity.

* * *

Patrick was so _bored_.

“I am so bored.” he announced to both everyone and no one in particular. Patrick missed Salusa Secundus with its urbane and sophisticated entertainments. Caladan, the Atreides planet, was a giant pond with too many dour-faced people. “More wine!” he called out. His spirits needed fortifying. With more spirits.

Oshie kicked him surreptitiously under the table and hissed “We are in the presence of the Padishah Emperor. Do not shame the Golden Lion Throne and House Corrino.”

Only years of court etiquette being religiously and mercilessly drilled into him stopped him from throwing his goblet across Oshie and leaving the table. “We have been in this waterlogged planet for four days and the only entertaining thing that has happened since was when Bergeron tried to recite some awful Caladanian poetry.” Patrick hissed back. It was an hour long and was an ode to some ancient Terran sport called ‘hockey’. The Corrino delegation paid attention out of political politeness but the Atreides, of course, listened raptly, and some even looked teary-eyed with nostalgia. Why they thought a game that was played in the freezing cold—with sticks and a small disc, violently and with great velocity—as something heart-rending, Patrick could never fathom. Unless there was nakedness involved, in which disappointingly there was not, as Patrick understood that the men who played the sport were weighed down by some sort of armor. Patrick was _not_ impressed.

Any other ungracious thoughts that Patrick may have about Caladanian poetry and ancient Terran sports were cut off when the chamberlain announced “The lords and nobles of House Atreides!” with a flourish. Across the room, a group of young men entered and seated themselves on the dais across the assembled Corrino delegates. One of the men who entered was not present in the festivities of the previous days and immediately caught Patrick’s eye. He was tall, and had the dark hair of most of the Atreides. He had flint-black eyes and a mouth that would have been tender, if it wasn’t currently schooled into a grim line.

“Who is that man and what do I need to do to have him under me.” Patrick whispered breathlessly to Oshie.

“Which poor fool are you going to snare this time, because young Seguin has never stopped looking mournfully at our direction for the past few days and I am simply tired of Benn looking at us like he will murder us in our sleep—“ Oshie followed Patrick’s eyes and stopped “— _NO_.” he said flatly.

“What do you mean ‘no’“ Patrick said, indignant.

“That is Jonathan Toews and he is a good friend from my days at the Academy and you will _not_.” Oshie warned.

Across them, Jonathan sat ramrod straight, eyes sweeping the room intensely. Patrick caught his eye and looked up from his lashes, teeth biting ever-so slightly on his bottom lip. It was a calculated move that had raised eight duels in five planets and a proposal of marriage from a Harkonnen baron. Jonathan looked amused, but unmoved.

A challenge, then. “Yes, I _will_.”


	23. Medieval AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is a king. Patrick is his sworn knight.
> 
> Or the AU where Jonny is a medieval king fighting for his throne and Pat is his knight who will let no one stand in Jonny’s way. For Diana @j19toews because, sorry, I never finished that headcanon with you. :D

* * *

“My lord, the enemy has assembled in the east.” The messenger said hastily, panting from the exertion of running across the camp.

“Some men are in a haste to die” the Lord Sharp chuckled, hands flat on the trestle table that held the lay of the battlefield.

The king remained silent, eyes fixed on the figures that represented theirs and the enemy’s men. The figures were of crudely whittled wood, no doubt carved by one of the dozens of squires who littered the camp. The king picked up the small of figure of himself, a crown carved on its head, and turned it over his fingers.

“I pray that I keep this crown” the king said grimly, “or else I will lose my head with it.”

“You won’t” Lord Kane smiled from where he had been sitting quietly near the tent’s entry, running his sword over a whetstone. Among the men in the king’s presence, he was the only one who did not stand in attention, having grown up with the king himself. Patrick, as he was also called, was first to declare himself for his friend, back when the king was only known as Jonathan, a lanky youth with not even a cottage to his name. Now his banner, a hawk in a field of red and black, flew from every keep and castle north of the Lakes and were carried proudly by the wealthy grain barons as far as past the southern plains. With Jonathan’s rise, so too did Patrick, who held the king’s confidence, and as it was rumored (not rumored, the Lord Sharp and a few select others knew it to be true, though anyone who were to dare malign them were quickly either met with the executioner’s axe, the business end of Lord Crawford’s flail or a rain of barbed arrows from Lord Hossa’s archers), the king’s heart and bed.

“I will see to it that it stays on your head. Though” he added mischievously, fingers deftly wiping down his sword with a rag, “if your head gets too big, I’m not sure that the crown would still fit.” Patrick slid his sword into its scabbard, and moved on to fitting his vambraces. His squire, Artemi, rushed to his side, but Patrick waved him away gently.

“And maybe then, I’ll have to wear it for you.”

On the mouth of another, those words would have been high treason. But the king only smiled, walking towards Patrick to tip his chin upwards for a kiss.

“Help me win this war and I will crown you myself.” the king said into his mouth, kissing him with the familiarity of men who have been lovers since they were youths.

Patrick chased the king’s kiss with another one much deeper, after which he broke off to tenderly thumb the small folds on the corners of the king’s mouth. “Then consider this war won.”


	24. Good Omens AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny, a grumpy bookstore owner who has no particular love for his customers, was once the Angel of the Garden of Eden. Pat, handsome devil (literally) and man-about-town, was once the Serpent of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. They’ve had a good thing going on for several millenia but, unfortunately, Heaven and Hell have Other Plans. 
> 
> Or the AU very loosely based on Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. Where Jonny is the Stern and Righteous who occasionally worries that he might be doing The Wrong Thing by Doing The Right Thing while Pat is an Angel who did not so much Fall as Shuffle Enthusiastically Downwards. Surprise, there’s still hockey in this.

* * *

“The End is coming.” Jonny nervously fiddled with his teaspoon. “I’ve been warned.”

Pat’s fork clattered down from his hands, shocked.

“When? Is it before the Stanley Cup Finals?”

Jonny punched him in the forearm (” _Ow_ , Jonny.”) and said, annoyed. “ _Focus_ , Patrick.”

“My people will be fighting with your people on this plane. Death and destruction.The Stanley Cup Finals won’t matter (” _Jonathan_ ” Pat gasped, scandalized. “ _Watch your language_.”) because there will be no actual Stanley Cup! It will be a misshapen and burnt piece of metal with Bettman’s charred body next to it!”

Pat frowned. “Though I suppose that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Lockouts and all.”

“I thought Bettman was one of yours.” Jonny looked at him speculatively. “Because I’m pretty sure he’s not one of ours.”

“He is. But he’s not popular Down There too.”


	25. Jumanji AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny buys an antique board game at an NHL All-Star Weekend charity auction. What it promised: fun. What he got: tigers, leopards, bears, flying foxes, rhinoceros, elephants, water buffaloes, cockatoos, eagles, crocodiles, pythons, cobras, orangutans, gibbons, monkeys, tarsiers and the Chicago Blackhawks’ missing NHL Draft pick, Patrick Kane.
> 
> Or the AU based in the first Jumanji movie where, while in the middle of an NHL All-Star Weekend, all hell breaks loose when Jonny accidentally picks up a board game that’s too realistic for anyone’s tastes. With the special participation of several of our favorite hockey players and for the ease of storytelling, I’ve decided to make the ASG location Chicago.

* * *

“Okay but can we please talk about the elephant in the room!” Jonny shouted out aloud, just a tiny, tiny hint of desperation in his voice.

“Do you mean that _metaphorically_ , in which case, it’s your very obvious boner for jungle boy over there” PK pointed towards Patrick, who made embarrassed and indignant noises, “or do you mean that _literally_ , since there is an actual elephant that’s in this room with us?”

The elephant (whom everyone had decided to name Bradley Kevin, since the NHL is mostly composed of hockey players that have the humor of unchaperoned 8-year olds, All-Star players or no) made a sad trumpeting noise. Nate patted its side in sympathy and fed it a peeled banana.

“Look” Patrick cleared his throat, steering the subject away from elephants, metaphorical or literal, and people’s boners. “If we don’t finish the game, the other hockey players will be trapped inside Jumanji.”

Patrick was looking more civilized from when they first saw him, wild-eyed and carrying a slingshot. After the debacle with the monkeys was over, Henke had taken one look at him and decided that _no_ , the tattered Hawks jersey, banana-leaf footwear, raggedy beard and mullet-like riot of curly hair _must go_ , water buffaloes running around Chicago be damned. Patrick was commandeered to one of the players’ rooms, were his hair was trimmed, his beard shaved and given someone’s spare henley and jeans. Jonny hated it, because it revealed that Patrick Kane, legendary missing Blackhawks Number 1 Pick, had the audacity to grow up to be unfairly hot while he was trapped inside the board game’s jungle for more than a decade. He’d even caught Tyler eyeballing Patrick several times now, like he was a particularly refreshing glass of piña colada. If they ever get out of this, he, Tyler and Jamie Benn _will have words_.

“I don’t want to explain to the press how we lost the Atlantic and Pacific All-Star players to a board game.” Sid panicked. Half of Millenium Park was now overrun by wild animals and he was worrying about hockey players and pressers. Of course.

“Chill.” Holts piped up from his corner, where he was lying down while a langur monkey calmly picked at his beard. “They have Kucherov, Stamkos and Price with them. By now they would’ve built a settlement, gathered supplies, and are probably well into their way into the Bronze Age and inventing the wheel.”

Sid was gearing up for a no doubt hissy retort when the two massive double doors suddenly burst open with Ovi striding in, carrying sharpened hockey sticks strapped to his back and wearing nothing but a goalie helmet, blocker pads on each arm, a random NHL banner as some sort of cape-thing, and a jockstrap. He looked like a terrifying 300 cosplayer on a budget.

“No more talk! Now we fight tigers!”


	26. Fairy Tale AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is not a princess and Jonathan isn’t Prince Charming. They live happily ever after anyway.
> 
> Or the AU that’s very very loosely based on the opening chapter of Catherynne M. Valente’s Deathless.

* * *

The flowers were blooming when the first prince came for his sister. He charmingly doffed his cap, with its lilies and swan feathers, and told Patrick’s mother “I am the Prince of Spring, and I have come for your daughter.”

And Patrick watched, from his window, as the prince rode away in a gaily caparisoned horse with his sister, to live happily ever after.

The sun was high in the sky when the second prince came for his next sister. He lingered when he kissed his sister’s hand, his jeweled fingers glinting with citrines and sapphires, and told Patrick’s mother “I am the Prince of Summer, and I have come for your daughter.”

And Patrick watched, from his window, as another one of his sisters ardently kissed her own prince, and rode away in a handsome roan stallion, to live happily ever after.

The leaves were red-gold in the forest when the third prince came for his last sister. He smartly clicked the heels of his well-shined Hessians and said, matter-of-fact, “I am the Prince of Autumn, and I have come for your daughter.”

And Patrick watched, from his window, as his last sister was whisked away in a haughty Lipizzaner, to live happily ever after.

The snow was falling in lazy drifts when Patrick saw him, looking up his window.

He was a tall man, his handsome face somber, and dressed head to toe in black. His broad chest had on an embroidered coat and his strong thighs were encased in fawn. Patrick watched as he went down from his horse, his heavy fur coat swirling at his feet, and strode to their door. He heard the man knock imperiously and announced himself when his mother ushered him inside their small parlor.

“I am the King of Winter,” the man spoke in a deep, flat voice. “Lord of Frost and the Frozen Earth, of the Cold and Snow—“

Patrick’s mother interrupted him, puzzled. “—but I have no daughters left, my lord.”

The King of Winter’s face softened and he smiled at Patrick’s mother hopefully. “I have come for the hand of your son, if his heart will have me.”


	27. Jonny and The Wolf AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny’s a boy who walks the woods alone. Pat’s the wolf in the forest. Only one’s a monster.
> 
> Or the Little Red Riding Hood AU with a twist, where Pat has sharp teeth (the better to eat with) but Jonny’s the one with the dark secret.

* * *

The forest was beautiful.

And in his path, a wolf.

Wolves weren’t uncommon in these woods. They roamed in small packs but were wary and steered clear whenever Jonny walked through the forest. But this one was in the middle of the path, head cocked to one side, surveying him with amber eyes and looked for all the world like it had no intention of running away. His fur was a tawny brown, lightly brindled with gold and dark grey. The sunlight filtering through the forest canopy that shone on some parts of his fur belied what looked like a reddish undercoat.

“Hello.” Jonny greeted on a whim, pulling down his hoodie slowly. “I’m on my way to my grand-mère’s cabin.”

The wolf yawned and sat on his haunches. It continued looking at him, eyes curious. It didn’t look like it wanted to maul him so Jonny mentally ticked him down as friendly.

A few seconds passed and Jonny suddenly felt ridiculous talking to the wolf. “Well, I’ll be going then” and proceeded to carefully walk a wide berth past it. The wolf followed him with his eyes, head slowly swiveling to follow Jonny’s progress.

Once he was past, Jonny adjusted his ball cap and put his hood back up and was about to walk on when he heard a gravelly voice say

“You’re not afraid of me.”

Jonny twisted to look back, surprised. The wolf was still there, but it had stood up once again, this time to lazily lope towards him, tail swishing back and forth.

“And you’re not running away or screaming, even when I’m talking to you.” The wolf was nearly a foot away from Jonny now, nosing in closely. “ _Why_?” the wolf challenged.

Jonny looked at the wolf, and let his eyes go dark.

“It’s the wolves who are usually afraid of me.”


	28. Werecat AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny is a tiger and Pat is a lion.
> 
> Or the were trope AU were Pat is a werelion and Jonny is a weretiger. Made because of the now (in)famous soundbite by Jonathan Toews were he cites that if he was an animal he’d be a tiger “because they run fast and eat things”. Also because 1. Pat’s flow would make for an excellent lion mane and 2. tigers have these neck scruffs that looks exactly like Jonny’s mutton chops.

* * *

“Bad kitty.”

Patrick’s eyes had already lost their blue and had turned a dull gold and his lopsided grin revealed a canine already lengthening to a wicked point. Jonny could feel Pat’s previously blunt nails sharpening, the knife-score lines of scratches down his back making him hiss.

“You do realize that applies to both of us, right? Since we’re both cats?”

Pat stopped squirming against him and looked at him incredulously. “Are you actually arguing semantics with me while my dick is riding your thigh?”

Jonny would actually want Pat to continue riding said thigh since Pat’s hip was accidentally providing the necessary friction for his own hard-on. _But_.

“Maybe if you said ‘bad _tiger_ ’ instead?”

Pat huffed, eyes rolling heavenward in the universal language of _the sweet Lord is testing me_. “Oh God, _shut up already_ , you’re killing the sexy vibe here.”

“Fuck, you’re so bossy.”

“I’m a lion, Jonathan. It comes with the territory.”


	29. 50 First Dates AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny keeps forgetting. Pat’s gonna help him remember.
> 
> Or the AU very, very loosely based on 50 First Dates, where Pat meets Jonny, a former college hockey player that’s suffering from recurring bouts of memory loss, while vacationing with his friends in a tropical resort in Seychelles. For my babe Diana @j19toews, happy birthday bb! ♥♥♥

* * *

Pat cleared his throat. He’s got this. It’s _showtime_.

“Your name is Jonathan Toews and you’re from Winnipeg and you played hockey in North Dakota and now your memory’s not as it used to be. You’ll always forget who you are and who I am. But Jonny, I want to be there, every morning when you wake up, for the rest of our lives, and make sure you remember who you are and how much I love you.”

Somebody let out a wet sniff (he thinks it might be Bur). Pat might’ve also heard an iPhone camera click (he’s preeeetty sure that’s Sharpy). Both were followed by a lot of angry shushing noises. Why were all his friends such _losers_.

“Why are all your friends such losers.” Jonny rolled his eyes, but he had a lopsided smile on his face. Normally Pat would take offense, since Jonny was friends with Oshie, of all people, but he’s too busy being dumb and in love over Jonny’s stupidly hot face.

“But I guess that’s something that I have to get used to now seeing as I’m—”

“Are you going to say yes?” Pat blurted out. He’s so giddy, he’s nauseous.

“— _well_. Now you just make me want to say no.”

“Ugh.” Pat crab-pinched him at his side. “Say yes, you giant loser.”

“Okay, yes, jesus _ow_.” Jonny rubbed his side. Pat had fucking steel clamps for fingers. “But I’ll forget this tomorrow.” he frowned.

Pat didn’t care. He planted a wet, obnoxious kiss on Jonny’s mouth. “Well. That just means I’ll have to propose to you every day, then.”


	30. Iskryne AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is brother to Aasveig, konigenwolf, the wolf-queen. Jonathan is brother to Svatr, her consort. 
> 
> Or the AU based on Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette’s landmark trilogy. This series is actually famous (though few people know about it) because it’s been the basis (and some say origin) of the wolfbond AU’s/tropes that you see in fanfiction. If you love LGBT fiction, Norse mythology and wolves, then you might want to give this series a try.

* * *

“Silks, from the East, for the wolf lord.” the village headman simpered. Patrick inclined his head graciously but continued to play with Aasveig’s pups. They had grown in the weeks that Jonathan was away and were now growing their teeth. One enterprising pup had climbed Svartr’s back, and had proceeded to determinedly gnaw on his ear. The giant black wolf paid the pup no mind, content to nap on the flagstones of the hall. Aasveig, beautiful and regal, watched them with amusement.

Jonathan remembered that old man. Patrick had forgiven him along with others, glad to once again honor his father’s men in the wolfhall. Jonathan wasn’t as easily forgiving. And for Patrick’s sake—who stood years ago with dry eyes clutching his sister’s wedding gift in his hands in the cold snow, while his father’s men jeered down at him from the battlements, calling him catamite, and whore to the beast-men of the wolfhalls—he vowed to _never_ forget.

Jonathan was wolfjarl of a hall five hundred men strong and Patrick was his wolfsprechend, brother to a konigenwolf who birthed konigenwolves. No man, highborn or low, will ever speak against them and breathe for their trouble.

“Those silks will not keep the trolls away, headman.” Jonathan said dismissively. “We need more men. And—“ Jonathan cut him off before he could once again make his excuses “—if you cannot find men, then you must take arms and fight yourself.”


	31. Temeraire AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan Toews is a captain for the Corps and Patrick Kane is a spy for the Command. 
> 
> Or the AU loosely based on Naomi Novik’s best-selling novel, Temeraire, which is basically the Napoleonic War but with dragons.

* * *

“They should’ve sent me. Your French is horrible.”

“I can charm the French. You can’t even charm the quartermaster to give you extra linens.” Patrick scoffed. Jonathan rolled his eyes. The quartermaster disliked him, but adored Patrick. Everyone who met Patrick eventually did.

“I’ll be quick. A week and you’ll see me again.” Patrick spoke again after some time, once they’ve settled into bed. “I’m the best that the Command has and I never fail. If I succeed, I could help turn the tide of war.” Patrick looked up at him, his eyes almost unnaturally blue in the moonlight. “We could win.”

Jonathan stayed quiet. He hoped desperately that Patrick wasn’t part of the Aerial Command, that he wasn’t the best among their spies, that he did something else—that he delivered the Corps’ post, that he trained cadets in the Academy, something mundane. Anything than being sent behind the enemy’s lines, risking his life so they could gain a foothold against Napoleon’s blasted war machine.

But wishes were for kings and princes, and not for spies and soldiers.

“We will. And you’ll be back and we’ll live to be fat old men until the Corps and the Command gets tired of both of us.” Jonathan kissed Patrick’s head tenderly. “Now go to sleep, you’ll have a long day ahead of you.”

Jonathan snuffed the candle and they both lay there, quiet, both thinking of the dawn that will come too soon.


	32. Thunder and Lightning AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is lightning. Jonny is the thunder. When one comes, so does the other.
> 
> Or the AU loosely based on the mythos of Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, where Pat and Jonny came before the time when men gave names to kings and gods. Made because there was an article calling Pat the lightning to Jonny’s thunder.

* * *

Men always gave them one name, because no one has ever seen one without hearing the other. But some, knew different. Some knew that the sky lit with lightning and then chased with the furious clap of thunder.

Patrick spoke to him lowly, in a tongue that men had already forgotten. His eyes had lost their blue, darkening to the obsidian of a cloudy night, light skittering and dancing across them.

“I will lead and you will follow?”

Jonny smiled. Old energies started slowly thrumming, making his skin itch and his hands tremble.

“When have I never?”


	33. Hedgehog Chef AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Kane, named by Saveur as one of America’s next superstar chefs, has gone missing. His staff is in an uproar, his sous chef is leaving, his restaurant, Le Hérisson, is at the risk of losing its precious Michelin star and to top all this craziness off, they’re now tempting the wrath of the health department by harboring what seems to be the most food-savvy hedgehog in the planet. All in a day’s job for the restaurant’s new chef, Jonathan Toews.
> 
> Or the AU that’s very loosely based on Ratatouille but, instead of a rat, we have a spiny little troublemaker who mysteriously knows his way around the kitchen, and Jonny’s the new chef that needs a little bit of the old Kaner cooking razzle-dazzle. Based on my tags from this post and with the special participation of Amelia the Hedgehog.

* * *

“You named the hedgehog after Patrick Kane?”

“He reminds us so much of Kaner, you know? Like when he does that… scrunchy face.” Nick gently poked the napping hedgehog on the nose. The hedgehog sprang up, wildly looked around—did the aforementioned scrunchy face—before plopping back down flat on the kitchen counter to continue his nap. Nick smiled goofily. “ _Adorable_.”

Jonny looked at the hedgehog dubiously. “It’s all adorable until the health inspector shuts us down.”

The hedgehog lazily cracked one eye open and stuck its tiny tongue out at Jonny.


	34. Dr Who AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is a man who lives inside a box. Jonny was the boy who waited for him.
> 
> Or the AU that’s loosely based on the hit BBC series, loosely because I never really followed the show so I know, like, a smidgen of the canon.

* * *

“Heyyyyy. Little boy Jonny, all grown up. Are you ready to go away on an adventure with me?”

There was a man in a suit sitting on his windowsill.

Jonathan knows that man. He spent a lot of time as a child trying to forget that man existed. He spent days crying in his room when the man said he was going away, but that he’ll be back and soothed him with _don’t cry Jonny don’t cry little baby I’ll go back for you one day,_ his normally mischievous blue eyes shiny-wet from tears.

The man promised him all the delights of the galaxy but all Jonathan got was therapy for several miserable years because he made the mistake of telling his parents that a man visited his room every night, who sat on his bed, told him about the stars and traced strange circular patterns on his palm, who swore to him that one day that they’ll go away to places not even the light reached or the universe remembered.

“ _Nope_.” Jonathan spun on his heel and left.


	35. Airport AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat spends a lot of time in airports. So does Jonny. And they meet. And meet. And keep meeting. It’s a courtship in nine layovers, five food courts and two delayed flights.

****

* * *

**Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport**

“Sorry” Pat murmurs sheepishly, when he mistakes the man’s black Samsonite for his own at the luggage carousel. The man smiles and walks away, Pat watching his ass surreptitiously (gloriously encased in pressed slacks) until he turns to a corner wall full of Hello Kitty decals and disappears from his view.

**Detroit Metropolitan Airport**

The glorious ass is back. This time it’s encased in jeans.

**Calgary International Airport**

“Are you following me?” Pat teases.

The man looks unimpressed. “Are _you_ following _me_.”

**Amsterdam Airport Schiphol**

“Jonny” the man finally says, while they both stare mesmerized at the man inside the Schiphol clock.

**Denver International Airport**

“Believing that every unexplained piece of architecture is made by aliens is completely insulting to human ingenuity and craftsmanship.” Jonny says snootily while scraping the bottom of his yogurt cup.

“Shun the noooonnnnn-belieeeeveeerrrr.” Pat shouts him down, spraying doughnut crumbs everywhere.

**Singapore Changi International Airport**

“My flight’s about to leave, but here.” Jonny hurriedly gives him something wrapped in white tissue paper.

Pat opens it. It’s a spray of white orchids, held together by a robin’s eggshell blue ribbon. When Pat looks up, Jonny’s gone.

**Portland International Airport**

The little box of Timbits are in his hand-carry, carefully sealed inside a Ziploc bag.

He doesn’t see Jonny.

**Incheon International Airport**

“Maybe” Tyler points out “the next time you meet him, you should ask him if he’s single and if he’d like to have dinner. Like how normal people do. Instead of tragically looking at every Tim Horton’s that we see at the airport.”

**Munich Airport**

He’s in a queue to board the plane when someone shouts his name across the airport hall. Pat leaves the line, ignoring the usher’s panicked pleas to come back lest he miss his flight.

“My flight’s cancelled.” Jonny huffs between catching his breath, his camera case swinging crazily across his neck. “And”

“ _And_?” Pat prompts. He’s twisting his fingers nervously on the strap of his backpack. They haven’t seen each other for months.

“And I would. I would.” Jonny looks like he’s nervous, toe scuffing the airport carpeting. “Like to ask if you would you like to go out with me? When you come back? We could trade numbers—”

Pat doesn’t hesitate when he says “How about now?”


	36. Breakup AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny and Pat decide to break up. Things break down for both of them.
> 
> Or the AU where Pat and Jonny try to live separate lives in separate houses in separate countries while playing for one team.

* * *

“You don’t get to do this.” Pat said “You don’t get to say ‘I can’t sleep’ or ‘I can’t eat’ or the other fucking things that make you miserable because you,” and he gestured between the two of them “did _this_. Now you have to fucking live with it, just as I have to fucking live with it, and that’s how it is.”

He said it almost pleasantly, his face carefully neutral. A stranger, watching the two of them, would’ve thought that they were talking about something mundane and trifling, something that was not, in reality, causing Jonny’s world to slowly eat itself into a black hole of cold entropy.


	37. Fashion AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Patrick Kane is the fashion world’s new darling. His debut for his independent label at New York Fashion Week has been wildly anticipated by both fans and critics, after years of both creative fame and personal notoriety while working at the hallowed fashion houses of Balmain and Givenchy. And leading the line of models strutting down the runway is Pat’s boyfriend, Jonathan Toews.
> 
> Or the AU where Pat is the next Jeremy Scott and Jonny is the next Ollie Edwards. Made because I still wanted a Project Runway AU but I couldn’t make it work so I opted for this instead. If anyone’s curious, the collection that I referenced here as Pat’s imaginary collection is Chanel’s RTW SS 2017 collection, directed by the delightfully eccentric Karl Lagerfeld

* * *

“I think these jeans are too tight.”

"Hang on, let me take a look.” said Pat, while kneeling down in front Jonny’s crotch to check the inseam. “Looks okay. Can you stretch your legs a bit?”

“What the fuck is the meaning of this!” Claude screamed from where he was previously hassling Sid over the order of the models. “Pat, stand up, your dress pants are going to get ruined! Jonny, for fuck’s sake, no blowjobs on the goddamn dressing room floor!”


	38. Secret Baby AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Kane disappears from the lives of everyone he knows. Nearly a year later, a man arrives quietly at a small house in a sleepy suburb in Idaho. With him are two bags, a weathered hockey stick and, in the crook of one arm, a baby.
> 
> Or the AU where Pat vanishes without telling anyone—and Jonny’s determined to find him. Made because I’m on a Terribly Cliched Harlequin Romance PlotTM roll and because one of my offline friends asked, ‘can this Secretary AU get any cheesier?’ WELL MY FRIEND JOKE’S ON YOU BECAUSE I RAISE THE ANTE WITH SECRET BABY

* * *

“Oh, there are no Patrick Kanes here.” the old woman said ruefully, shaking her head at Seabs. “I know everyone on this street. And there isn’t anyone here by that name.”

Seabs made a frustrated noise. They were so fucking close, and then nothing. Another dead end. But Jonny was like a terrier with a bone. “Are you sure? He might be calling himself under a different name. We’re looking for someone 5′9 or 5′10, blonde hair, blue eyes, did anyone live or pass by here who looks like that”

The old woman looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I know someone who looks like that, but he’s a good boy. Quiet. Never gave anyone any trouble.” She looked at both men with suspicion. “That boy’s living a quiet life, don’t go making any trouble for him now.”

“No trouble at all!” Seabs decided that a much gentler approach was now warranted since they might be on to something after all. “We just want to know if this person that you’re talking about is our friend.“

The old woman looked as if she was really debating on whether she should tell them or not before she sighed. “All right.”

Seabs could practically feel how close they were to finally finding Pat. Jonny looked as if he was about ready burst.

“25th Street, house on the left. That’s where Tim Caine lives with his boy.”

Tim Caine. Jesus. That’s why they couldn’t find him. Jonny was already a few steps ahead of Seabs when he suddenly doubled back.

“What did you just say?” he said voice, dangerously quiet.

“25th Street, house on the left.”

“No after that, I don’t know if I heard you right but did you just say—”

She blinked owlishly at them. “Yes, that’s where Tim lives. With his little baby boy.”


	39. Secretary AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick knows how his boss’s son likes everything—how he never takes any calls before 10 AM, the exact measurement of cream and sugar on his cup of Black Ivory, his usual table on Le Bernardin, and what flowers to send when he inevitably ends his latest affair. He knows the size of his shoes, the golf clubs that he frequently uses and how he never completely buttons up his dress shirts. Patrick Kane knows everything about Jonathan Toews. It’s terrible, really, since Jonathan probably doesn’t know that he even exists.

* * *

“Me?” Pat laughed, a hollow, a sad sound. “Every day, you’d pass by my desk, and you never looked at me or glanced at my direction. Every day, I said good morning to you, and you’ve never acknowledged that I even existed. Not even once. ”

Jonny was looking at him now. “I don’t like looking at what I can’t have."

He held Pat’s gaze, steady.

"And I couldn’t have you.


	40. Antique Bakery AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Kane’s a rich man who decides to open up a patisserie on a whim. He knows nothing about pastries or cakes (or anything about baking, really) and his bodyguard (Duncs), his accountant (Seabs) and his executive assistant (Sharpy) all think he’s gone nuts. But Pat may not be able to tell apart gateaux from gratins, but he knows business. And the only way to make this new venture successful is if he gets the best. And the best is Jonathan Toews—pastry chef superstar, Le Cordon Bleu prodigy, apprentice to Lorraine Yee and, much to Pat’s chagrin, the boy who he rejected in high school.
> 
> Or the AU loosely based on a Korean movie (that’s based on a Japanese manga) where Pat is a clueless patisserie owner who finds the tables turned when he realizes that he’s now chasing after Jonny

* * *

“You’re going to work for Heartbreaker Kane?” David said in disbelief.

“God, I hate, hate, _hate_ that stupid nickname.” Jonny groused.

“It’s true though. Went through all those boys and girls like they were disposable.” David sniffed. “Wait. You’re not, like, going to do this because you’re still into him, aren’t you? Because I was with you that entire time when you cried over Patrick Kane’s face for months and I don’t want to go through that again. Because if I do, I’ll go over there and punch him myself.”


	41. Liar, Liar AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is a compulsive liar. It’s a good thing Jonny knows how to tell what’s real.
> 
> Or the AU where Jonny’s travelling cross-country and picks up a hitchhiker in New York. Pat’s running away from the claustrophobic confines of his average life in Buffalo. They fall in love. Made because me and @miss-malheur got talking about roadtrip AUs and she’s defo a better angsty writer than me.

* * *

On the afternoon of the first day that Pat rode with him, he grinned and said “I’m 5'11 man.”

 _Liar_ , Jonny thought in disbelief.

Four days later, while in a nondescript diner in Eau Claire, Pat grimaced and pushed his plate away. “I’m lactose intolerant.”

 _Liar_ , Jonny, thought worriedly.

It’s their tenth day, and they’re in Reno. Pat’s breath fanned across Jonny’s cheek when he murmured “Babe, babe. Move. I don’t want to cuddle.”

 _Liar_ , Jonny thought fondly.

It’s the last day of their trip. The California sun was behind Pat when he told Jonny “I don’t love you.”

 _Liar_ , Jonny thought sadly.


	42. Kate & Leopold AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan, Reichsfürst Töws, was born in the heady days of the Kaiser’s Empire. Patrick, college nobody, was born in the tumultuous, social media-bitten years of the 21st century. They’re not supposed to meet, but, by some weird quirk of fate, they do.
> 
> Or, the AU where Pat is saddled with an obscure, Franco-Prussian time-travelling prince. Jon, said prince, isn’t too bothered in going back to his own time as much as he is trying to woo his Flaxen-haired Beloved.

* * *

Jon, in a few short strides, went ahead of him and gallantly opened the door with a flourish, minutely inclining his head in Pat’s direction.

Pat sighed, aggrieved. “Stop it. I don’t need another dude opening doors for me.”

Jon ignored him and held out his arm, waiting expectantly for Pat to link his own arm through. “Think nothing of it.”


	43. Kingsman AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick ‘Peeksy’ Kane is a street kid who’s recruited into the ranks of an elite top secret organization by Jonny Toews, codenamed ‘Galahad’. Or, the Kingsman AU (very very loosely based, because God, I watched this half asleep in the cinema since I was so tired from work) where Pat and Jonny are Eggsy and Harry, but with 25% more codependent gay spy ridiculousness. Made for the shallowest reasons because OMG I cannot stop laughing at that magazine cover.

* * *

“Can I at least get a Hummer?”

Jonny raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No. We’re not that kind of organization.”


	44. Casino AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Kane’s an MIT dropout who’s trying his luck in beating the casino’s odds. He does and his luck turns, but just a little bit too well. And that’s where Jonathan Toews steps in. 
> 
> Or the AU where Pat is a casino hustler who has to pay back $4.6 million dollars and Jonny’s the one who’s going to come collecting. In person. Unfortunately for Pat, the money’s already gone. But fortunately for him, Jonny’s loaded and doesn’t need the cash—he’d just rather collect in kind.

* * *

Jonny patted the covers. “Well, let’s have you earn that 4.6 mil.”

Pat hissed angrily at him, looking for all the world like a maligned kitten. “You are a sick, sick man.”

“A sick man that you owe more than four million dollars from.” Jonny said smugly.

Pat looked like he ate a particularly vicious lemon. “Fuck you, fine. But that’s five thousand off each time.”

“Each night?”

“What do you fucking take me for. Five thousand each pop.”


	45. Sta Clarita Diet AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat’s life has always been peachy. He has a nice house in the ‘burbs, a successful real estate business, and a happy marriage to his high school sweetheart, who makes his heart skip a beat every time he sees him. Pat’s pretty sure Jonny feels the same way, if he actually has a heart that beats. Seeing that he’s just very recently turned into a flesh-eating zombie. 
> 
> An AU loosely based on the Netflix series, where Jonny starts craving for a lot of meat (and not just the sexy kind, either) and Pat is determined to support his baby, come hell, high water, zombification and ancient Serbian curses. For @catofthecanals289 because she reblogged some posts that inspired me to headcanon a 1988 version.

* * *

“Babe, I’m hungry. So hungry.”

Jonny must be getting desperate. Normally a pillar of manly Canadian stoicism, his tone was borderline close to a whine. And he only broke out the pet names if he was feeling the pinch of not getting what he wanted.

“Alright sweetheart. I’ll run downtown, get you some lean cuts, how’s that?”

“No, babe. I’m hungry.” And with that, Jonny snaked his hand between Pat’s legs, pressing the heel of his hand down his denim-clad dick.

“….oh. That kind of hungry.”

“Well, I’m also the other kind of hungry, but I know my priorities.”


	46. Stardust AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Jonathan Toews wanted to do was to impress a girl. Instead, he got Patrick Kane. 
> 
> Or the loose, modern remix of the movie based on Neil Gaiman’s book, where Jonny is a small-town boy who has no game and Pat is a literal star. There are immortal goths out for Pat’s heart, Jonny is kept safe by his spice rack, and they don’t meet gay pirates but they do meet a bisexual frat-bro named Tyler who’s running an interstate smuggling business.

* * *

Sure, there’s a group of people who want to take out his heart and eat it but Pat’s pretty sure there are worse fates.

Like falling in love with a stupidly oblivious and unfairly gorgeous guy who wants to bring him home to his girl so he could impress her, while a perfectly willing specimen is right here beside him, no impossible quests and old-fashioned wooing required.

Pat stabbed at his food moodily and imagined it was Jonny’s ridiculous face.


	47. The Night Circus AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat and Jonny are bound to a circus of dreams, outdoing each other as rivals, yet ending as lovers. 
> 
> Loosely based on Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus. An offline friend said she wanted one, and I was like, ‘alright, but don’t hold your breath, but for you I WILL TRY’ and, boy. Did I try. Also, I say ‘loosely’ because I only read, like, ten pages of that book and so I’m really sorry if my knowledge of the plot is hazy at best. Also, ‘loosely’ because it’s HEA or GTFO.

* * *

“You keep leaving me. You leave me longing for you again and again when I would give anything for you to stay, and it is killing me.”


	48. Italian Vacation AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat goes on an idyllic vacation in a villa in Cinque Terre. It’s beautiful, it’s scenic and the natives are friendly. His only problem is that the villa next door’s windows are directly across his own, and his neighbor has a distracting habit of walking around nearly (or on one memorable occasion, completely) naked. This wasn’t what he was expecting when they told him that he had a room with a view. 
> 
> For Diana @j19toews because she wanted a Letters to Juliet one and I was like ‘I WILL TRY’ and in the process of looking up villas, I was like ‘self, do you remember that image of a man standing on his window’ and then here it is.

* * *

“Sharpy, there’s a man on the next-door villa’s balcony.”

Sharpy made a half-hearted ‘tsk’-ing noise. “Not even noon and you’re already drunk.”

Pat made an indignant noise. “No, I swear, there’s a man across my window and, oh God, he’s stripping his clothes.” What was that man thinking? The villas were built cheek-by-jowl from each other and anybody could just lean across their window and see. “Sharpy. He’s tan all over. _All over_.”


	49. Cheaper By The Dozen AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two Sedins, there are four Staals, there are twelve Kane-Toewses. Or the self-indulgent AU where Jonny and Pat raise a dozen children. 
> 
> Made because Diana @j19toews and I started talking about kids, specially Kane-Toews kids, and somehow one-two-three became one dozen.

* * *

“What, are you guys trying to start your own midget hockey team?”


	50. Achilles and Patroclus AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat is beloved by both mortals and gods yet he loves Jonny amongst them all. 
> 
> Based on Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles.

* * *

“We reached for each other, and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake in this room loving him in silence.”


	51. Porn Blogger AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Jonny gets off from showing himself and Pat gets off watching him. 
> 
> Or the AU where Pat has to live with the fact that the man whose body he jacks off to at night is working beside him, suit immaculately pressed, at day. Loosely based on @thecoggs post.

* * *

“Pat, are you listening?”

Jonny was getting more and more annoyed at the second. Pat didn’t care, he just hoped that the boardroom table hid the boner that he was now currently sporting, because all he could think about was the noises that Jonny made while he filmed himself fucking his fist.


	52. Movie Star AU

* * *

On-screen, Jonny falls in love with Pat across the Serengeti and Lake Tanganyika. Off-screen, after the studio lights have dimmed, Pat wishes that Jonny’s kisses were real. Or, the AU where Pat is Taylor Swift and has a weakness for tall, handsome brooding men. Made because @j19toews showed me a photo of Pat from the 2016 NHL Awards where he looks like a fricking 1950′s actor on his way to win an Oscar.


	53. Age Difference AU Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat is 29, Jonny is 19, and they wreck each other in all the beautiful ways. 
> 
> For @j19toews when we talked about what if it’s a reverse age difference AU where Pat’s older and Jonny’s younger (there’s a post that I made about this… somewhere). This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time because surprise, surprise—rookie year photos are the very devil to find.

* * *

“Got a name kid?”

“Jonathan. Jonathan Toews.”

“How ‘bout I call you ‘Jonny’ instead?”

“Oh. Yes, yes. Yes, sir.”

“'Sir’, eh? Keep calling me that, I might ask you to never stop.”


	54. Paranormal Investigators AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pat is the weirdly kooky paranormal detective who’s out to prove the existence of ghosts and all supernatural creatures. Jonny is his perpetually dismissive and overtly skeptical boyfriend who reluctantly tags along to make sure that Pat is safe, hydrated, and never, ever, ever finds proof that the paranormal exist. And if he has to resort to wily, convoluted plots to make sure that Pat stays indoors during the full moon or stop him from swimming in strange pools during twilight or line the underneath of the insoles of his shoes with rosemary, thyme and lavender then that’s no one’s business but his own. 
> 
> Made because I binge-watched all Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes and I was like ‘huh how about an AU where Shane is Jonny and Ryan is Pat’ and then later my bestfriend goes ‘hey I just read a Tumblr prompt about what if there are two paranormal investigators but one is actually a paranormal creature??’ and boom! This was born.

* * *

“Sometimes, I think your cat can actually understand me.” Pat mused while sorting out newspaper clippings on the desk. He reached out and scritched Séraphine’s ears fondly. “Smart kitty”, he cooed.

Séraphine mewled mischievously at Jonny. _Would it be such a terrible thing if I talk to him?_

Jonny glared at her, eyes squinting dangerously. _If you so much as string a vowel and a consonant together to make any sound that remotely resembles a word, I will skin you and use your fur for bathroom slippers._


	55. 1491 Pretty Woman AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Tyler is a tart with a heart and Jamie is a socially awkward rich man who needs a pretty thing draped on his arm. 
> 
> Dedicated to @j19toews because I’ve wanted you to at least have one Bennguin edit, though I think it sucked because it is super frustrating to get some doppelganger photos for Tyler and/or Jamie because of their tattoos. The wondrous thing though, is that there is no shortage in the internet for photos of Tyler Seguin pouting prettily at the camera.

* * *

“You’re late.”

Jamie gaped at Tyler. His hair was combed back neatly, scruff neatly trimmed. His compactly muscular body filled out the Zegna perfectly and a gold Vacheron Constantin peeked out discreetly from one neatly buttoned cuff. “You’re stunning.”

Tyler grinned. “You’re forgiven.”


	56. Deskmates AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Jonny works from 8am to 5pm and Pat works 8pm to 5am and they never meet, except for a long-running exchange of post-it notes and gifts. 
> 
> Based both loosely on a 1D fic that I read (oh Lord, I can’t remember, but it was where Harry was such an adorable little kind-hearted weirdo) and me and my work colleague’s weird little shift-distance friendship. Dedicated to anyone who’s ever worked in corporate. :D

* * *

It starts innocently enough.

Patrick has too many boxes of pastries from home, so he leaves some of it on their desk with a little post-it note saying _Too much, help yourself to some :)_.

The next day he sees another post-it note, square in the middle of their keyboard saying _Thanks, loved the chocolate ones_.

And so it goes, a soft thick scarf left on a particularly snowy day, paperback novels that have notes stuck to them saying _I’m on this part_ or, _You should read this_.

Patrick, for his part, leaves little random notes. Small little pick-me-ups of encouragement, just in case the person he’s sharing his desk with gets a little bit overwhelmed at work (he thinks Jonathan is, with the waste basket full of torn reports). He also leaves a small succulent plant on top of their monitor, just to spruce things up on their otherwise bare desk. He knows that Jonathan moves it to the window during the day to get some sun, because the plant looks healthy and well-cared for.

It goes for months. Somewhere along the line, Jonathan becomes Jonny and Patrick leaves a note that tells him to call him Pat. It’s a strange kind of friendship, neither one knowing the other, with Patrick too scared to look up the man that he’s traded little notes with on their shared desk.

And then one day, he sees a man sitting on his desk and he _knows_.


	57. The Sun and the Moon AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat and Jonny chase each other across the heavens. 
> 
> From an anonymous quote based on unknown folk tale.

* * *

And they only meet briefly during twilight, a passing touch and a fleeting glance, when it was neither dark nor light.


	58. Prime Minister AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Jonny is the shining beacon of all that is good, eco-friendly and Canadian while Pat is… Pat. The Prime Minister’s hockey-playing college sweetheart-turned-quirky husband who, much to Jonny’s grief, drives a Chevy and cheers for Team USA. 
> 
> Very loosely based on a ficlet that I’ve read… somewhere. 
> 
> Edited to add: it’s from @kanerboo, as mentioned by anon

* * *

“Prime Minister Toews! Can we get a picture with you and the First Gentleman?”

Before Jonny could protest, Pat grinned, and held up his fingers in a letter V.


	59. Beauty and the Beast AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Jonny is an over-dramatic, arrogant and cranky rich recluse and Pat is the out-of-luck guy with an unrepentant love for YA novels who’s been duped to becoming his assistant. Oh, and apparently there’s a centuries-old curse from an old crone (how was Jonathan supposed to know that you shouldn’t tell ugly peasants that they were ugly peasants) that needs breaking. 
> 
> Very (very) loosely based on Beauty and the Beast but in this version there’s no castle, just an ostentatious marble penthouse with too much dark furniture and there’s no waltz in a candle-lit ballroom but Pat and Jonny do dance together cheek-to-cheek and barefoot in Jonny’s ridiculously over-decorated living room. And no one really knows what the old crone’s curse has changed in Jonny’s body but, whatever it is, he’s definitely not saying.

__

* * *

_Hideously disfigured_. Pat recalled what Shawzy had gleefully gossiped when Q had told everyone that Pat would be sent to work as Toews’ new assistant. _What a load of a bull_.

“You have a cut on your upper lip.” Pat said out aloud. “That’s not a crippling disfigurement. Stop being melodramatic.”

Jonathan glared at him. “It has marred the symmetry of my features.” he said snottily.


	60. Car Heist AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat is Dom and Jonny is Brian. Sort of. Loosely based on The Fast and The Furious, but without, you know, the prodigious death count and betrayals. This has 80% more bad-ass baby rookies, hard-ass beardy veterans, sex on top of Mustangs and happy endings. 
> 
> Made because I found hi-res stills of that Chevy Camaro commercial and they looked like they were moving around stolen car goods in some warehouse haha

* * *

“Your next mission is not a what but a _who_.” Hoss slipped a thin folder across his desk. “Patrick Kane. In and out of juvie for several accounts of petty larceny when he was young, now working as a respectable owner of a small car restoration garage in Buffalo. No known family that we know of, but he has a weird habit of taking in strays, whom, at least to the public, he appears to be teaching basic car mechanics so he can foster them to work in his shop.”

Duncs spoke up. “That’s the Disney version. All those kids that he’s fostered have records here in North America and in Europe.”

Jonny raised an eyebrow, pausing from where he was looking at pictures of Kane. Most were blurry and only showed a man with broad shoulders and thickly defined arms, face always hidden by the shadow of a snapback brim. “Europe?”

“Yeah, last we’ve heard he took under his wing a Finn and a Russian, both with ridiculous grand theft auto records. We don’t even know how he met them. Un- _fucking_ -believable.” Hoss shook his head in disbelief. “We’ve reason to believe he’s running several high-profile car theft operations. So we want you to befriend him, get to know him, and use any means necessary to gain his confidence and trap him.”

“Any means?”

“ _Any means_.”


	61. Small Town Football AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here Pat and Jonny grow up together in a small town playing football. 
> 
> This was supposed to be loosely based on Friday Night Lights, but as I have not watched the show, I hope this comes as a very very very close second.

* * *

“I think you should be wearing my letterman jacket.”

Jonny flicked Pat’s snapback in annoyance. “I am not the fucking girl in this relationship Pat.”

“I know that baby, but I don’t like how people keep staring at your ass. There are _lines_. I’ve gotta let these fools know I’ve got dibs.” Pat said smugly, hands creeping towards Jonny’s back pockets.


	62. Rookie Single Dad AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat starts his NHL career with a lot of hopes and dreams and a newborn baby. 
> 
> For @j19toews and all the baby headcanons that we have and for @peeksandhiscaptain so you’d feel better bb!

* * *

“Aww. Lookit him. So tiny. Probably doesn’t weigh than more than a puck.”

Seabs made a thoughtful noise. “Puck, eh? Yeah. Sounds about right.”

Jonny grinned, looking up from where he was fixing the swaddle carefully around the baby’s throat. “Peeks and Puck.”


	63. Coffeeshop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Pat is an over-worked photographer and a single dad to two adorable children and Jonny is the hopeless, pining owner of a coffee shop and the unwitting dad to half a dozen man-children. Compounding to the ridiculousness of their rom-com life is the Nosy Dad Club (Seabs, Duncs, Sharpy, Hossa and Bur) and the Overly-Invested Coffeeshop Crew (Teuvo, Vinnie, Hartzy, Temi, TVR and Brinksy). 
> 
> For @miss-malheur who wanted a coffee shop AU. I tried! I haven’t watched Gilmore Girls but I hope this’ll be somewhat okay

* * *

“Artemi. Temi, you can call me. You have boyfriend?”

Pat gaped. “Excuse me?” he asked incredulously. Beside him, Sharpy wolf-whistled.

The server sighed gustily and repeated himself slowly. “You have boyfriend? Girlfriend? Yes? No?”

“I. Ah. Well. Uhm.”

“You have boyfriend, girlfriend, goodbye. Starbucks near corner, you buy coffee. You single, stay, I bring bread. And good coffee. Better coffee than Starbucks.”

“I, well. I’m single?”

“Okay. Good choice.” The server patted his hand approvingly and then sharply spun on his heel, determinedly marching back to the kitchen to shout “Single! Blond macchiato man single! Jonny, stop crying over coffee beans now!”

**Author's Note:**

> Cuddlefight me at @cuddlefighter.tumblr.com


End file.
